


Righting Alice Through the Looking Glass

by thelovelylydia



Category: Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll, Alice Through the Looking Glass (Movies - Bobbin), Alice in Wonderland (2010), Alice in Wonderland (Movies - Burton)
Genre: F/M, Movie rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 87,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7902208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelovelylydia/pseuds/thelovelylydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alice has returned from three years abroad in China to find that all at home is not well. Furthermore, a wander through a looking glass reveals even worse developments in Underland and a Hatter who needs his dear friend's help more than ever...with a villainous Time on their heels. A reimagining of the Bobbin/Burton sequel, Alice Through the Looking Glass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> I was not as bummed by Alice Through the Looking Glass as much of the Burton's!Alice fandom was, I think partly because I waited so long and partly because it was an unexpected birthday present (thanks, Disney), but there were certainly parts that I felt were poorly handled and either were from a lack of clear and definite writing or completely ignored canon.
> 
> So I've been imagining these part few months what I would change about the film, if I had the power, and in the large chunk of time I've not inherited, I decided to flesh these ideas out. Thus I present to you the first part of Righting Alice Through the Looking Glass. I hope you enjoy it, and I'm so sorry the first chapter is so darn long! I am not sure how many parts this will have, but I expect somewhere around 10 or 12? We'll see.
> 
> If you wouldn't mind leaving a comment, good or bad, when you've finished, this author would so appreciate it. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

Rain was falling heavily on the churning waters, sending the large ship rocking to and fro. Waves high enough to spill onto the deck soaked the sailors' boots as all struggled to grab hold and stay aboard. A slip would mean surely tumbling into the pitch black briny depths below.

Whether the crew would be lost to the storm or to the Malaysian junks that followed closely on their tail, was yet to be seen.

The helmsman white-knuckled the wooden steering wheel, trying to see into the dark ahead, rain pelting his wind burned face. He was doing his best to ignore the encroaching pirate ships behind, but the sounds of cannons and the whipping of the black flags furling in the tempest caused his heart to beat in his chest. He shook his head. It would seem to be no good; trouble was certainly behind, but there was further danger up ahead.

He turned to the first mate beside him, a weathered British officer, who was concentrating on the scalawags behind them, standing tense as he braced himself on the poop deck behind the helmsman.

"Sir! Shores on every side!" The helmsman tried his best to cry out atop the _booms_ of the cannons and the howling storm above. "Sand or reef I cannot say!"

The first mate shook his head; clearly their leader was not understanding the brevity of the situation, and this was a moment of decision he prayed she was ready for. "Captain! The Malay pirates have us cornered!" He yelled to the Captain before him. "We _must_ surrender!"

It was their only hope. Certainly the pirates would take hold of the only goods that they had left on the ship, but perhaps they would spare the crew for future negotiation purposes. They would have a great chance against other humans than the cruel hand of nature.

The Captain, who had been standing looking out a telescope at the enemy behind, turned now, her blonde braid whipping over her shoulder as stern green eyes showed her disdain for the suggestion. "Surrendering my father's ship will not guarantee survival, Mr. Phelps," her sharp tongue lashed the first mate for the suggestion.

 _Of course sentimental value had to keep her holding on. That and her stubborn nature_ , Phelps thought brusquely, wishing to start an argument with her about how the reefs would certainly provide death, but knowing there was little time to talk sense.

He watched her walk forward past the helm, telescope swinging about as she searched for something intently on the horizon. A small utterance of "there" could be heard as she lowered her scope with a look of determination.

"Shallow water!" Alice exclaimed as she saw the narrow pass between the rocks ahead. "Dead ahead, full sail!" She shouted to the helmsman and crew alike.

"Captain!" Phelps yelled back, his head reeling with annoyance at this novice sailorwoman. "The ship _will_ run aground!" He shouted over the storm as he watched her walk away. "It's _impossible_!"

At the utterance of that word, she turned around once more with a look of anger and frustration, her eyebrows knitting. She held tightly to the mast ropes to keep from falling over as she scolded him, "You know about my views on that word, Mr. Phelps!"

He had gone and used the word she was most fond of and had lost any chance he had of turning around the argument. He said a prayer to Saint Nicholas before shouting with trepidation, "Full sails," and another louder, more confident, "FULL SAILS!"

He watched as the obedient sailors leapt into action, shouting down the line to one another the instructions given by the first mate. The men dressed in Royal British sailor uniforms quickly began to let go of their anchors as they scurried to their positions. Several men were beginning to climb the slippery, waterlogged ropes. Most of the men sported beards as well as long hair due to the length of the voyage, water dripping into their eyes and off their chin as the rain pelted down merciless on the exhausted crew.

Phelps looked at Alice who had grounded herself with the ropes of a mast. She looked ahead steadily, before turning and shouting with her pink mouth, "Hard to port, Harper!"

The helmsman looked to Phelps cautiously, knowing what would happen as much as the seasoned first mate did.

"Hard to port with full sails _will tip us over_ ," Phelps scolded the young woman. She might be in charge, but she certainly was not as seaworthy as her cockiness led her to seem.

A twinkle in Alice's eye led Phelps to roll his eyes once more. She turned forward to watch the ship cut through the waters, "Exactly!"

The crew was hurriedly scampering up the ropes in order to let loose the sails that had been tied down in anticipation for the storm. The thunder above roared mightily, an angry cacophony with the sound of cannon fire behind. One cannonball met its mark, blasting onto the deck of the ship and sending several of the crew flying to their bellies on the wet deck. Phelps continued praying to Saint Nicholas, wanting to curse the girl who had sent all of them scattering from the safety of the main deck and secured luggage. Sure, she had proven to be resourceful and formidable on the trip so far, and extremely eccentric to boot, but Phelps couldn't help but think that even this stunt was just a _little_ too far.

Phelps and Harper both stumbled as the unfurled sails began to pick up the wind, going taut against the gales and sending the ship lurching forward at several more knots an hour. Combined with the roaring force of the oceans below, it was enough to make even a seaman sick to his stomach.

"Hold on, everyone!" Alice shouted above the ruckus, Phelps wanting to comment about the uselessness of the advice, since thanks to the cannons there was less and less of the ship to hold on to. He held his tongue nonetheless and watched as the men who had let loose their masts slowly return to the safety of the deck, grabbing for whatever was tied down and would keep them from tumbling overboard as the ship picked up speed.

The ship began to tip as the winds caught it at just the right angle, sending it into the shoals. The bottom of the boat began to scrape along the sands, Harper begin to cry out as he held onto the steering wheel, "It's too shallow!"

Alice looked about with frustration, her head scanning the ship from left to right, clearly not having achieved the result she wanted from the full sails. "We need full sails!" She yelled again, and that was when Phelps and Harper had spotted him as well.

A young sailor, a greenhorn, was struggling to unfurl the top sail; without the added area the ship would not tip over to the angle needed to escape the crags. Phelps shook his head in dismay and failure as he saw the boy slip on the wet wood of the masts, his hands grabbing to the sails. The boy had lost his footing and there was surely no way he would regain it in time to unfurl the sail and set the boat back on its course.

"Will, hold on lad!" Harper called out to the boy above, as the sailor lost hold of the ropes and was holding on for dear life on the wood of the mast.

Alice began to look frantically around. _If we don't have full sails, my father's boat is not going to make it_ , she thought as she searched wildly for a solution. In her movement she felt the sword hilt tap her side and she knew what she needed to do. With a deep breath she jumped from the poop deck to the webbing that would lead to the top sails. She began to climb them rapidly, the rain stinging her eyes as she struggled against the storm to move up the waterlogged hemp to the dangling soldier above. Cannon fire, thunder, and coursing blood were the soundtrack in her ears as she climbed upward. _Like the Jabberwocky, Alice. Only much simpler. It's not moving around trying to attack you._

She reached the ascent, climbing onto the mast and hugging it like a tree climber stuck on a limb. Once she had maintained her balance, she was able to grab hold of the rope holding the sail, unhitching it from the hook. The sail burst open with a sharp _thwack_ , sending the entire vessel leaning onto its side. Alice clutched the mast, praying that indeed her plan would work. _It's an impossible,_ she tried to convince herself as she gripped the wood fiercely.

She looked forward as the ship tilted, letting out a gasp, and watching as Will now dangled inches from the water below. She could hear the crew shouting about items going overboard, bodies slamming into the sides of the ship as the _Wonder_ began to sneak through the shoal. The ship jumped as it scrapped past several rocks, Harper trying to keep the boat straight as it slid through the rocks like a thread through a needle eye.

Alice let out a sigh of relief when they passed through the rocks, but then a gasp followed when she realized that one rock was still in their way; it lay right before the tipped mast and would surely break the wood in two, sending she and Will into the water and leaving the _Wonder_ damaged in dangerous harbors. Thinking quickly, Alice pulled the sword from her thigh, a last minute tool she was going to use in case the sails wouldn't open, and steadied herself on the mast. She raised the sword above her head, chopping down and letting loose the top sail which went flying into the dark sky above.

The ship quickly lurched upright, having lost some of its pull from the wind, narrowly allowing Will and the end of the mast to scrape past the giant rock unharmed.

The _Wonder_ , now up-righted after its sail was cut and several more let down, sailed triumphantly forward up the coast, leaving behind the trapped Malaysian junks carrying, what Alice assumed were now unhappy, pirates.

Alice slid down the wet rope leading to the deck below, her boots make a triumph _clump_ when she hit the wood. The crew gathered around her, clapping as she watched the junks in the distance. One of the boats attempted to take the same path through the narrow channel, but its belly hit the rocks, putting a hole in the hull and sending it sinking into the depths below. Alice realized with pale cheeks that the image could have been them had her trick not worked.

She smiled all the same as the men came in closer to clap her on the shoulder and shake her hand. Even Phelps provided her with a satisfied smile when she returned to the helm, Harper looking exhausted as he leant over the wheel.

"The only way to achieve the impossible," Alice began her mantra, looking at Phelps who had turned to watch the Malaysian boat sink, "is to believe it is possible."

Phelps' long mouth was hard as he looked down at the Captain, but he nodded his head in understanding. If anyone else were to say those words, he would think they were a madman; but not Alice Kingsleigh. If rumors were true, the lass was much like her father, and if she put her mind to her, the impossible was merely just another task to be checked off the list.

As she had just proven.

"Set a course for London, Harper," Alice commanded the helmsman, Phelps leaving her side to begin his own work in navigating and speaking with the crew. Harper turned to watch Alice take one more look at the impossible she had just achieved. "Our work here is done."

* * *

_Several Weeks Later_

The sun was bright off the blue water of the Thames and the gulls were crying as Harper sailed the ship into harbor, docking it alongside other fine looking vessels. Alice was in the captain's cabin, finishing gathering her belongings before going ashore in her beloved London, a place she hadn't seen in nearly three years.

Her fingers swept over a map of China, a completion of her father's life work that she herself had finished. She was proud of the adventures she had just completed, filled with memories and stories to tell everyone she would reunite with back home. She would miss the daily uncertainty of the strange and vast land, but even a wanderer could grow homesick. Besides, she was ready to hug her mother after so many nights without her, and see how her sister was faring with her husband Lowell.

Alice grabbed hold of her father's pocket watch, which she had hung by her bunk, looking at the old timepiece with nostalgia, remembering her father always looking at the time and surmising he was eternally late. _Late for what?_ She would ask. And he would say some great wonder like _high noon tea with a Persian prince_ or _the boat for the next great adventure._

She noticed with slight sadness that the hands had stopped moving, the comforting _tick-tick_ of the second hand had ceased and the clock had gone uncharacteristically quiet. _No matter_ , she thought, tucking the pocket watch into the inner pocket of her navy blue Captain's coat, _I'll have a clock worker take a look at it while ashore and fix it in my time home._

Home. It was what prompted her to throw some last minute keepsakes in her bag, which she slung over her shoulder, and head quickly out of the cabins to the deck of the ship, and then off the gangplank to the port below. She passed through the crew who stood at attention on either side of her; a respect she admired, but a spotlight she would much rather shy away from. Harper blew his whistle at the end of the line and announced her arrival ashore regardless of her plea not to, but Alice continued onwards anyway.

London was as crowded as she remembered, and smelled as salty and stale. Nonetheless, it was where she had spent many a summer running about while waiting for her father, and despite its gloomy façade, was a place she was happy to be welcomed back to.

A slender figure dressed in black, and looking several years older and more worried than Alice had left her, waved across the way to the blonde haired woman. A smile crossed Helen Kingsleigh's stern face, and while she stiffly received Alice's enthusiastic hug, Alice knew her mother was glad to see her all the same.

"Here you are…finally," Helen took a moment to assess her daughter, wrinkling her nose at the tan breeches Alice had donned in her time at sea and nearly gasping at the Captain's coat Alice bore proudly.

Alice shook her head, knowing that certainly her mother was full of questions, but now was not the time to answer them. She readjusted her bag's strap over her shoulder, grabbed her mother by hand and began to lead her down the familiar road to the Kingsleigh's flat in the city.

"Miss Kingsleigh!" A male voice interrupted Alice's walk with her mother, and the girl turned, worried that perhaps she had left something of value aboard.

Instead she was greeted by the sight of a smartly dressed blond haired man, outfit complete with top hat and gloves, making his way quickly toward the Kingsleigh women. Alice did not recognize the young handsome face, his youthful appearance would lead her to think he was about her age, making his way down the pier toward her.

Alice noticed that he had a thick file case in hand, and as he approached near enough to reveal that he had sparkling blue eyes to add to his already comely appearance, she also noticed the insignia stamp in metalwork on the file.

The Ascot crest. The firm was checking up on her. With a sigh she turned, letting go of her mother's hand to prepare herself for the unwelcomed guest and the lecture that was sure to follow.

"You and the _Wonder_ have been expected for over a year," the man began. Alice rolled her eyes. _So much for a 'hullo, welcome back, Miss Kingsleigh', 'how was your trip, Miss Kingsleigh?'_. Alice didn't expect to be addressed as Captain, knowing that the only reason the title fell upon her was because of her relationship with the firm and the fact that she had proven some bravery and determination in their time up the Yangzi. She was a woman, after all, and she saw that women in China struggled as much in society as her fellow women in England did. With a sigh she shook her blonde braid, glad she was even able to be given the chance to sail at all. And angry that she and her crew were yelled at rather than congratulated for their hard work in securing goods abroad.

"There were…complications," Alice began, looking at the street as she began to try to explain their delay on getting home to London. Yes, she had made a pact with Lord Ascot that she should return over a year earlier, but surely one cannot truly expect or control adventure! Time had simply slipped away from her.

"Pirates and such," she almost began to explain all the adventures they'd been on, deciding that this man wasn't worth her time instead. "The ledgers are in my cabin," she told him where he could find her detailed journals about what was found, stopping to look at the interloper with a less than amused grimace, "and would you please let Lord Ascot know that I should like to see him immediately."

The request sent the man into a tailspin, his head dropping as he looked away. Even Helen tensed at Alice's side. The blonde looked to first the man and then the mother, looking for some further explanation for the sudden dour attitude.

"I'm afraid Lord Ascot passed away whilst you were at sea," the man managed to say.

Alice's stomach sank and her mouth dropped open. She immediately felt sorry for the sudden steamroll over this man. Perhaps he was only saying they were a year late in order to inform her of the sad news that they were unable to transmit to her abroad.

"The titles were passed on to his son," the man from the firm went on.

Alice shook her head in confusion, "Hamish?" She asked in astonishment. Her mother remained uncharacteristically quiet at her side.

"Indeed," the man nodded his head. "He's now chairman of the board."

"How unfortunate," Alice said flatly, hoping it would be read that it was unfortunate that Hamish had to pick up the business due to his father's loss. _How dreadful_ , Alice thought to herself. _But perhaps the impossible has happened and he's grown up and gotten a sense of direction for the business?_

Here double entendre was not lost on the man before her, however, as his eyebrows crossed, looking at her peculiarly. Alice turned to her mother, ready to flee the situation and recoup her losses back in the Kingsleigh flat.

"Well, it certainly was nice to hear of some news," Alice said to the man with a frown, "I'm sorry it had to be unfortunate."

"I as well, Miss Kingsleigh," the man tucked the file case under his arm, holding out his hand for her to shake. "My name is James Harcourt, by the way. I don't think we've met."

"No, no we haven't," Alice took the hand pleasantly.

"I'm a clerk for the firm, currently. I've heard many stories about you, Miss Kingsleigh," he said with a smile.

"All of them good, I should hope," Helen Kingsleigh interrupted.

"Of course, Alice here made quite an impression on the late Lord Ascot," James ducked his head sincerely.

"I am sure we will meet again," Alice nodded her head in farewell. "Goodbye, Mr. Harcourt,"

"Goodbye to you, Miss Kingsleigh," the man agreed, letting Alice escape with Helen in hand.

* * *

Alice followed her mother into the small townhouse her father had bought for his trips to London. She shivered walking into the drab foyer; it was quiet and still in the house. With only her mother to occupy it, and perhaps Margaret when she was in town, Alice was not surprised that any sense of inhabitance had been lost.

Wandering through the small house, Alice saw that many of the things that had been kept there in her father's absence had gone missing. Outlines of where sofas and side tables had once stood could be seen against the sun-bleached carpets and wooden floors. She was surprised to find the house so empty and barren, thinking that even in her loneliness her mother should have at least kept some reminders of times before.

"Where's Mary?" Alice asked as she continued through the house with her bag on her shoulder. Usually the maid would have bustled to the door, giving Alice a kindhearted kiss and taking her luggage immediately, as she had done when Alice was in her late childhood and early adolescence. Father had found the maid several years prior in another house that was downsizing, and took her on to be his help in the townhouse he stayed in for business. Helen had not let the maid go when her father had passed, allowing the maid to keep up the London home while she raised the girls in the countryside.

"I let her go," Helen said with a sad smile. "She was getting old in her years, and well, I can manage all on my own."

"Seems so," Alice looked around again, shuddering against the cold chill. "It seems you've gotten rid of much of the furniture as well."

"I don't need it anymore, and it just brought painful memories of your father back to me in the nights that I sat in the kitchen alone," she said with a heavy sigh. "I did keep enough so that you were comfortable when you got home." She began her descent down the stairs to the basement kitchen. "Come on down here; it's warmer as I've been stoking the fire all morning, waiting for your ship to come near enough to harbor before going out to see you!"

Alice followed her mother into the kitchen, which was indeed a much more pleasant atmosphere to relax in. Helen set to fetching a tea pot, some cups and saucers, setting the kettle on to boil as Alice slipped her jacket from her shoulders to settle down at the chair at the head of the table. One that had been her father's in another lifetime with a different Alice.

"Your letters were so infrequent, I hardly know where you've been all this time," Helen said with her back turned to her daughter. Alice knew that her mother's attempt to guilt her was only a way to show her worry. Along with the added lines on her face and the gray in her blonde hair, Alice wondered how many sleepless nights she had inadvertently caused her mother in her absence.

Alice would be able to put all her mother's worries to bed, once she had heard of the amazing things she had done and seen. "China was incredible," she began, hanging her coat on the back of the chair. "We followed the Yangzi deep into the interior," she smiled as she thought of the stares she received stepping off the boat. She assumed it was because she was a woman stepping down amongst such a great gang of men, but instead she said to her mother, "Most of the people had never seen a person with yellow hair before." Which was certainly true among a people with straight black hair and some of the deepest tans she had ever seen.

Helen paused in her gathering of the tea ware, looking at her daughter with wide blue eyes. "Were you never afraid?"

"Of course!" Alice almost let out a laugh. She certainly wouldn't go into stories about the adventures that made her so, not with her mother, but what would bravery truly be without a little fear? "But when I was, I thought of father," she looked over at her mother with a bright grin.

"You sound just like him," her mother conceded with a tight nod of the head, a mixture of pride and dread, Alice assumed. She watched as her mother gathered the dishes on a tray, the image bringing back memories of her mother preparing tea for a young Alice and her father who had just come in from the harbor on days like today, watching the boats come in and seeing all the wonderful spices and silks that came from distant lands.

"I miss him," Alice confessed, reaching into her pocket to touch the watch that hid there.

Her mother didn't turn around, but Alice could hear her agreement, "I do, too," before continuing on, "but the years pass quickly for me now."

Alice pulled the pocket watch from her pocket as her mother continued to speak, reading the inscription on the back bearing her father's name. She ran her thumb over the eroded etchings solemnly. "But time is a cruel master," her mother seemed to say on cue.

"Time is a thief," Alice said harshly, "and a villain." _If it weren't for time I wouldn't have to worry about trying to spend it equally ashore and at sea._ She sighed as she quickly tucked the pocket piece back into her coat. Helen joined her daughter at the table, placing her tray laden with tea and cups on the table between them.

"I hear the Ascots are marking Hamish's succession tonight," her mother announced as she delicately sat in the chair besides Alice. Gossip, especially among the aristocracy, was her mother's greatest vice, and it was also the best subject changer her mother possessed as well.

"Perfect! We should go!" Alice smiled, sitting up and watching as her mother placed a cup and saucer before her.

Helen's eyebrows lifted in a sarcastic manner. "I'm afraid the invitation must have gotten lost in the post."

 _I don't understand why she would bring up such a subject if she doesn't want me to press the issue,_ Alice thought with annoyance. Alice decided it would be best to ring up the words of the dear Lady Ascot, reminding her mother of the promise that was made to the Kingsleighs, "Nonsense! Lady Ascot once said we would always be welcome," Alice smiled innocently at the incredulous glare she received from her mother at that statement. Alice knew her mother would know when her daughter was brewing up a true plot. She probably shouldn't have quoted her greatest nemesis. "Besides," Alice confessed, "I have a proposition for Hamish."

"Hamish married last year, Alice; he seems to have gotten over your public rejection." Her mother's tone continued to grow more bitter the longer Alice put off her true intentions for going to the party this evening. _How dreadful for his new wife_ , Alice almost balked at the thought of Hamish marrying. But he was a proper aristocratic lord with a proud mother to boot; it was only really a matter of time.

Alice rolled her eyes, clearly wanting to display to her mother she had no regrets about making that rejection in the slightest. "A _business_ proposition, mother," she replied.

Helen blinked twice in silence, but as soon as the realization of what Alice meant washed over her, she bristled. "You're leaving again, so soon?" Her tone was stern and unhappy.

Alice wanted to say something, but she knew her mother was right. She hadn't dropped anchor with intentions to stay; she merely wanted to extend her time abroad. A pang of guilt rippled through the girl as she saw the pained look on her matriarch's face.

"There are matters here which might benefit from your attention," her mother mumbled as she poured herself and Alice tea. Alice's head cocked at her mother's strange suggestion. Perhaps the missing furniture was missing not because of disuse but because of empty coffers.

Alice reached out, placing her hand on her mother's, "After my next voyage you won't have to worry about anything!" She tried to soothe the older woman. Besides, Margaret should be paying attention to _some_ of their mother's financial needs!

Helen was clearly still wounded by her daughter's hasty intent to retreat back to the waters, and she knew that it would be of little use to convince the girl not to go to the Ascots. With a sigh she replied snarkily, "Am I permitted to worry about tonight?"

Alice grinned sadly, knowing she would not impress her mother, but she wouldn't surprise her either. She turned to the tea sitting before her without a word, causing Helen to sigh and shake her head, the two attending to their tea in silence.

* * *

When tea had finished and Alice was ready to settle in for the night, she took her luggage in hand and went up to her childhood room on the third floor. Little had been changed about it, seeing as the room was fairly unused in her adolescence. After the death of her father, Helen rarely brought she or Margaret into London, and little was made use of the city flat.

Alice noticed that her favorite childhood doll was propped up against one of the throw pillows at the head of her bed, the paper crown Alice had placed upon its head yellowed and crisp from age. Her collection of seashells lay cluttered on the bedside table, their once vibrant tones dulled by sun bleaching and a thick layer of dust over them. The bed was still in relatively good condition, though it clearly had not been slept in for several years.

Alice set down her bag by her old writing table, looking at the small museum of little Alice projects she had made over the years. Her embroidery sample was propped up against the wall, a coming of age domestic project she had started at the age of twelve. Looking it over, she couldn't help but smile as she noticed the letters at the top were shaky and uneven, but as the work continued on, so the letters became more precise and steady. Though she was certainly one for adventure, she was glad she was able to learn something of a lady's life; it would show all the nay-sayers who didn't think she had a proper bone in her body.

Next she turned to a stack of sketches and watercolors she had forgotten about on her time overseas. Slowly she went through the pile and warm tears came to her eyes as she recognized the faces and shapes of her friends from Underland.

The first picture was that of the garden of talking flowers she encountered after exiting the hall of doors, amongst the flowers was Uilleam, the kind hearted dodo bird. Following this picture was one of the brave and fierce dormouse, Mallymkun, followed by the Tweedle boys sharing the same space of paper. The next sketch was dedicated to her guide McTwisp, the White Rabbit, who always seemed to cause her adventures by leading her down the rabbit hole. She smiled as her fingers outlined the blue courtier cloak her wore, his giant pocket watch held firmly in hand.

The next few pictures were scenes from her last adventures among her daring friends. A painting of the Tweedles escorting her through a forest of giant mushrooms; they had been on their way to speak with Absolem, the Caterpillar, to discuss the hotly debated subject as to whether or not she had been the _right_ or _wrong_ Alice. The next picture was the small gang overlooking the Oraculum, Absolem looking down on them disdainfully as Alice looked upon her future destiny. One she had hotly debated taking up or not.

Another of the scenes was of Chess, the Cheshire cat, floating about the Tulgey Woods, his teal eyes looking up at her from among the pages. She tried to mimic his Cheshire cat smile, but knew her small mouth would never be able to do such a mischievous grin justice.

The next scene made her shutter; it was a dark watercoloring that depicted her battle against the Jabberwocky. She had painted the back of herself, dressed in the White Queen's Champion's armor of silver, holding the Vorpal Blade above her head while the Jabberwocky wrapped its dark snakelike body around the ruins of a castle. This was a moment she often thought of in her travels in China when she was most afraid; certainly nothing in this world would ever be as dangerous or threatening as the fearsome Jabberwocky. And she had already bested the beast. If she could defeat the old creature of nightmares, she could do just about anything.

The final scene was one that tugged at her heartstrings. It was a watercolor of the waterfalls of Marmoreal, the scene she had witnessed outside on the balcony of her room at the castle. Tarrant Hightopp, the Mad Hatter, was standing next to her as the two overlooked the views. She remembered that night as crystal clear as she had remember defeating the Jabberwocky. This moment was mere hours before she accepted the role as Champion, and Tarrant had come to her room to speak words of affirmation to her. She wasn't sure she would've accepted if it had not been for him.

When she had expressed to him that she had thought that her entire journey had been a dream, she had caught the disappointed look that had fallen across his face, his green eyes searching for something, anything, to convince her otherwise. What he had decided on, however, only seemed to solidify her conclusion, "Yes, yes, but you'd have to half mad to dream me up!"

Oh, how she had wished then and there that he was completely real. That he was someone he could keep beside her for forever, what with his splay of red hair and his gat toothed smile. His fierce loyalty and his heroic sacrifice on her behalf. "I must be, then," she had said to him.

She had turned in that moment to smile at him, to show him that she wished he was real and she wished she could stay. But in that moment she was so very convinced that it would all go away when she awoke. "I'll miss you when I wake up," she had said to him.

He had only sidled closer. She didn't lose him to a dream, however, she left him due to a choice.

Over the past few years, in the quietest of nights after a grand adventure, she found herself missing him very much. He understood her in ways she wasn't sure anyone would be able to, her nearest and dearest friend formed in such a short amount of time. Why had she been so eager to leave?

 _Because I had things I needed to do_ , she thought darkly to herself.

She wished she could have brought him with her; he would have loved China and all its rich colors and vast cultures. He would have savored every drop of tea with her. He would have stood by her and believed in her when all the sailors looked at her and saw a naïve, unmarried young woman. He would have championed her as he did in Underland.

Alice looked at the watercolor once more before setting it down; if she were to return to Underland again, would she leave it? Would she forsake such a rich place for more adventures abroad?

She had promised a return to the land, being back before Tarrant knew it, but she hadn't discovered a rabbit hole to fall down or a looking glass to slip through.

No, Alice had only discovered China, and in doing so had found more of herself.

Would Underland need her?

She pushed the thoughts aside, readying herself for the party instead, thoughts of her childhood nightmare turned paradise relegated to the back of her mind.

If she had turned to the window, she would have seen the brilliant blue butterfly taping on her window, desperate to signal to her that, no, indeed, her Wonderland was not quite done with her.

In fact, it needed her now more than ever.

* * *

The carriage ride from London to the Ascot estate in the countryside was one that Alice did not miss in the slightest. She wanted to return home to the Kingsleigh estate before the party, but her mother refused, saying that they would be late as it was coming from London on such short notice. So Alice had quickly unpacked her small bundle of possessions and readied herself for the evening at the city townhouse.

Her mother had certainly _not_ been pleased with what Alice had chosen to wear, but the girl was certainly quite fond of the outfit, and no amount of groaning and suggestion from her mother would change her mind.

The carriage pulled up to the front doors of the estate, two butlers grabbing hold of the doors to open them, allowing the Kingsleigh woman to step from its depths. One butler helped Helen from her white shift, revealing a matronly hunter green gown below, cream elbow length gloves covering her age spotted arms. Her mother had matched the outfit smartly with pearl drop earrings and pendant.

The butler who removed Alice's cloak, however, tried his best to hid his look of shock as he devested the young blonde to reveal a bright outfit below.

"I do wish you'd worn that yellow dress," her mother muttered as she looked over Alice's attire in the candlelight once more before ascending the stairs.

Alice smiled down at the traditional silk Chinese costume she had picked for such an occasion. What better way to show the wealth she had discovered in China other than wearing it? The collar of the costume was cut to imitate the petals of a flowers, paneled in pink, yellow, and red. Beautifully embroidered butterflies circled the purple jacket below. Below her waist hung a pleated skirt of green and yellow fabrics, sitting straight when she stood still and swinging about her knees as she walked; a stark contrast to the petticoats and frocks about her. She wore tall lace up white boots with black soles and toes on her feet. Her hair was pulled into a tight twist with a jade fan comb, revealing gold dragonfly earrings that shone brightly by her cheeks. It was a bright ensemble against rather muted colors for an evening party, but Alice knew most of the people at the party, and most of them knew her. None would be surprised that such a flamboyant character had chosen such a flashy outfit.

"If it's good enough for the Dowager Empress of China, it's good enough for the Ascots," Alice replied with an air of annoyance.

"Must you always be so headstrong," her mother answered with an equal amount of exasperation.

Alice lifted her head proudly, a smile playing across her lips. "No, it's just more fun that way," she stated, playing on her mother's nerves even more.

Helen shook her head, trying her best to ignore the stares that were beginning to accumulate at the doorway and increased in number as the two entered the already filled foyer and ballroom. She was glad Alice took a moment to pause in the entryway to search about for her intended victims; it gave Helen a breath to steel herself, an armor she always needed in the presence of socialites when she accompanied her bombastic daughter.

Alice pressed headlong into the grand ballroom, London's elite flittering out of her way to create a wide breadth between them and the peculiarly dress Kingsleigh. Helen heard gasps of "What is she wearing" and "How odd!", but none seemed to phase the girl before her who looked around at the ornate ceilings, before returning her sights to the guests ahead of them. Alice was a rainbow of color in a room filled with golds and dark blues and champagnes and deep reds, a strange silhouette among the evening gowns and long skirts.

Alice caught sight of James among the throng of dancers; he balked at the sight of her, his blue eyes nearly leaping out of his head as he beheld the attire she had arrived in.

"Miss Kingsleigh," he was quick to her side, looking at her, and then sizing her up in the midst of ball gowns and smart suits. He himself was immaculately dressed in a fine tuxedo, wearing a tight black bowtie with white gloves gracing his hands. "What are you doing here?" He looked around once more at the onlookers.

Alice fought rolling her eyes at his clearly self-conscious glance around, instead looking directly at him as she folded her hands together, a smile playing across her lips. "I've come to give my report to Lord Ascot."

He looked at her with bulging eyes once more, swallowing with a quick nod of the head. "Right," he sized up her outfit, but turned all the same, gesturing with his hand to follow him, "well, come with me."

James led them to one of the rooms off of the grand ball room where Hamish Ascot stood beneath a glimmering chandelier, beaming proudly. Beside him stood a beautiful blonde woman, wearing a seafoam green ball gown, her hair pinned up in delicate curls. A screaming baby sat resting on her hip, clearly unhappy to be in the midst of so many people. She looked like all of the stuck up little girls Alice had grown up with, but standing at Hamish's side she looked perfect for the role.

Hamish had grown a rather ghastly mustache which sat upon his upper lip like a limp gingery caterpillar. Alice did her best to bit her cheek to keep from laughing at it, knowing she would need to present herself in a no-nonsense business type manner. They waited their turn to be announced to the couple, Alice watching as Hamish spoke animatedly with the people before him. He held a flute of bubbling champagne in his hand, taking long swigs of it between guests.

Lady Ascot hovered over his shoulder, a proud mother in a royal red matron's gown, looking adoringly at her son and then at the red-faced grandchild that he had whelped with such a beautiful woman. _You know what I fear?. s_ he had asked Alice once. Alice had smartly replied something about the decline of the aristocracy. Not far from the truth she guessed. _Ugly grandchildren,_ had been Lady Ascot's reply.

 _Well, I am sure this beautiful woman won't give you those,_ Alice thought morosely. _I can't say the same for Hamish, though._

When Hamish caught sight of Alice and Helen, he looked quickly to his mother, who returned the confused glance. Alice knew that they had not been invited to the soiree, she was relying solely on Lady Ascot's overriding need to be a good hostess and not kick the two of them out. She was right when Lady Ascot quickly dropped her look of confusion and annoyance, replacing it with a sickly sweet tone of welcome.

"Helen, what a surprise!" Lady Ascot acknowledge the elder Kingsleigh, forcing her son to greet the younger.

"Alice," Hamish began, sticking his chest out as he looked down at her. Alice watched out of the corner of her eye as the new Lady Ascot gave her screaming baby up to a servant, quieting the moment to a more bearable pitch. "Well, welcome home,"

Alice kept a smile on her face, but she highly doubted she was welcomed— back to London, much less to the Ascot manner.

"We were afraid you might never come back with our ship," Hamish replied hotly.

"My ship," Alice couldn't help but correct the red headed man smugly. "Hello Hamish." She replied courteously.

"It's proper to refer to my husband as 'Lord Ascot'," the blonde wife beside him spoke up, proudly coming to stand at her husband's shoulder. "That is why we're having this little soiree, after all." It appeared the woman, despite never having met Alice, seemed to dislike her all the same.

"Miss Kingsleigh," Hamish himself began the sentence with proper introductions, such a ridiculous manner not needed for two people that had known one another for years, but Alice did her best to remain polite. "This is my wife, Alexandra. The new Lady Ascot," Hamish said with a rise of his eyebrows that seemed to suggest that Alice should be embarrassed. The former Lady Ascot beamed down on the couple proudly.

"So," Alexandra spoke once more, "Hamish has told me you've traveled the world these last three years."

"Yes, I've just returned," Alice glanced to her mother, whose look begged her to remain polite with the new Lady Ascot.

"Well, how was it?" Alexandra inquired.

"The world?" Alice specified.

"Yes," Alexandra clearly did not like being made to look stupid. Hamish also looked bored with the notion.

"Highly enjoyable," Alice rocked on her toes, not helping her want to make the new Lady Ascot look like a fool. "You should visit it sometime."

Helen shot her daughter a glare as she snarked at the new wife. Alexandra looked far from amused and Hamish clearly wanted to kick her out of the building. Alice felt a bit bad for being so cruel, especially since for all she knew Alexandra could have been trying to make proper conversation. She was glad to see out of the corner of her eye that James Harcourt hid a snicker in a gloved fist, feigning a cough. She was glad someone found her amusing.

Alice tried to ignore the social faux pas she had just committed, and certainly one that would not help her cause, so she pressed forward toward the real reason for her appearance. "Apologies for the intrusion, _Lord Ascot,_ " she looked pointedly at Alexandra. "I've come to give my report."

Hamish appeared astonished, his red eyebrows lifting slightly, but he nodded his head all the same. "Of course,"

Alice looked at him expectedly, ready to give an argument in case he tried to fight he request. To her shock, her bowed gently to her and commanded, "If you would follow me, Miss Kingsleigh."

Alice beamed as she followed the man, rehearsing the words she had come up with on her carriage ride over so as to impress the board and further her chances of sailing aboard.

Helen watched her daughter go, knowing Hamish was up to no good and wishing she hadn't been so rude to Alexandra. The girl certainly looked like one of Alice's stuck up playmates from days of yesteryear, but she had tried to be kind and inviting when she could have sent them out on the street. She tried to offer Alexandra a kind smile, but the girl clearly was put off by the unpleasant way she had been treated, and with no good reason. Alice needed to learn to pick her battles more wisely, and to realize that not all were as cunning and witty as she was. A little grace would do to balance her pride.

Alice followed Hamish through the crowded room to the furthest side, closest to the fireplace. There stood a semi-circle of six older gentlemen, most of whom she recognized from her youth. Many of these men had served alongside her father. Certainly they would see the same fire and spirit in her eyes, along with some added success.

"Gentlemen," Hamish began amiably, gesturing to the men before him, "may I present Miss Alice Kingsleigh." He turned to Alice with a mock smile on his face. "Miss Kingsleigh, the board."

The older men looked at her dumbstruck, clearly put off her flamboyant attire. Alice did not allow the peculiar stares to put her off, instead she cleared her throat and lowered her voice, preparing herself for her speech.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she began, looking around at all the men, holding each of these gazes for a moment before wandering to the next. "The world is open to us, but we must move quickly," she reached into her pocket to retrieve some documents and papers she had stowed away as evidence for her argument. "It is my belief that further expeditions along the Wu River…" she leaned forward to begin handing the documents out, but was interrupted by Hamish.

"I'm sorry, Miss Kingsleigh," Hamish spoke over her, tucking his hands into his waistcoat pockets, "there will be no further expeditions."

Alice looked over at him with shock written across her face. She glanced back to the board, unassured, before narrowing her eyes at Hamish. "What?"

"There is a position in our clerking office," Hamish began, looking down at her haughtily. "You will start in files, but in time…" he shrugged his shoulders as if to say the choice of success was up to her.

Alice felt the fire light in belly, glaring Hamish down as she turned on the man, knowing what really made him tick. "This isn't about China, is it?"

He looked at her with a confused glance, the second one for the evening. Alice smiled triumphantly, "It's because I turned you down when you asked me to marry you." Hamish looked at her with wide eyes and then to the board, who looked on with fascinated interest at the domestic occurring before them.

"I'm sorry, Miss Kingsleigh, but this is all we can do for you," Hamish replied graciously. "No other company is in the business of hiring female clerks, let alone, ship's captains." He began a round of laughter at her, the board joining in with some chuckles. "Oh, don't think we didn't hear about your self-appointed elevation of status,"

"The original Captain died of yellow fever!" Alice retorted.

"So you decided to use your prestige with the company to gain you a right you've neither the experience, much less the gender or gravity, to lead?" Hamish responded. Alice was enraged that he suggested her being a woman was a failing for the position, but she could not argue about her lack of sea knowledge or her less-than-seasoned traveling experience. As it was, she was just learning the basics of navigation and steering a boat. She knew most great captains were weathered with time, experience, respect, and apprenticeship, everything she lacked.

She turned around to see that at least she had a friend in James, who clearly didn't agree with the way she was being mocked and laughed at. His glance burned her resistance. "You can't do this!" Alice fired back. "I own ten percent of the company! Your father set aside those shares for me!"

Hamish looked unsurprised by the argument, a smile playing underneath that horrid red caterpillar on his lip. "Correction," he held up his finger to stop her a moment, "he gave them to your mother, who sold them to me a year ago while you were gone. Along with the bond on the house."

Alice's heart began to pound. No wonder the flat seemed so bare, no wonder her mother had mentioned things that could use her attention.

Her mother was in worse debt than she thought!

Where was Margaret and Lowell? Why had she not mentioned any of this in her letters?

"What's more to say, Miss Kingsleigh, that you're a liability to this company. Do you think we, the board, are interested in funding a girl who runs off to the far East with our money, only to return when and as she pleases? One who returns with little time for us to review where she has been, how she has spent her time, revenue versus cost, before she demands that we send her out again?" Hamish shook his head. "No, Miss Kingsleigh, you have made your bed of arrogance and pride, and now you shall have to sleep in it alone. I will not put any more money into a sailor who, regardless of her inadequate sex, is willing to gallivant off and use her position and influence to take titles she isn't properly informed to take, gives little to her lenders in terms of reports and facts, and has the audacity to show up at a party, insult one of their wives, and then demand for more money. You would be mistaken to think we are going to give money to even a man who acts in such regard."

Alice felt dread sink into her as she realized all the accusations Hamish was making against her were true. Certainly she owned the idea and the willpower, but his father had funded her and helped her restore her father's ship.

Alice decided to ignore his accusations and focus back on what he said about her mother. "Her house?" Alice asked in disbelief.

"A bond which we will redeem against your ship." Hamish replied. "We will give it to a seasoned Captain who will make timely reports and return when his contract specifies, sending word if he is delayed."

"But that was my father's ship," Alice shook her head. _No, this isn't fair!_

"Indeed," Hamish nodded his head, gesturing for a servant to hand over a stack of papers. "Sign over the vessel and you will redeem the house. Report to work Monday morning and you will receive a salary and a pension."

Alice looked at the man before him dumbstruck. What was he confining her to? A day at an office, a day of sitting around? A day of doing whatever bland Mr. James Harcourt did? "And give up the Wonder?" Alice knew her phrase meant more than just the ship.

"Otherwise we cannot help you, or your mother," Hamish replied looking at her expectantly. He was expecting her to sign over the ship with no further thought. Revert to being a clerk in his office! This was all her mother's fault for putting her in such a position!

Hamish straightened up and Alice turned, sensing another presence in the room. Turning, she saw Helen Kingsleigh standing with guilt written across her face, her hands balled at her waist as she had certainly heard the exchange of conversation between her daughter and the new Lord Ascot. Alice felt the fire she had burning in her belly toward Hamish redirect and fly out toward her mother. Tears welled in her eyes as she glared the matriarch down, pushing past the board toward the furthest door that would lead her out to a hallway.

"Alice!" She heard her mother murmur behind her, footsteps following in her wake. But Alice did not turn to address her mother. Instead she stamped out the doorway, fueled by rage and frustration.

When she entered the hall she turned violently at the woman who followed her out into the dark empty hallways. "How _could_ you sell our shares?" She questioned, venom in her words.

"Everything I do is for you, Alice," Helen responded with as much force, "so you can make a decent start in life."

Alice looked away from the woman who betrayed her, resisting every urge to reach out and shake her in her rage. "Five minutes ago I was a sea captain!"

"A sea captain is no job for a lady, and besides, you manipulated your way into the title, from my understanding." Alice didn't respond, but turned away from Helen with a look of disdain, wanting to put as much distance between her and her mother as possible. "Time is against you, and you're being careless with it!"

"I want to believe I can do as many as six impossible things before breakfast," Alice murmured to herself. "That is a child's dream, Alice!" Her mother scolded. Her sensible, unimaginative, traitorous, still alive mother! If her father was alive, he would never have put her in this situation. It took all her strength not to scream that she wished he was alive and her mother dead. Alice continued to look away as her mother tore into her now, reopening wounds and realizations Hamish had first inflicted. "The _Wonder_ is just a ship."

With that Alice turned on her matriarch violent. _Just_ a ship? "It's not just a ship, it's _father's_ ship," Alice replied, nearly spitting fire with her words. "Everything he loved; everything _I_ love!" She would not keep her thoughts inside anymore if her mother was going to be so cruel. "He _never_ would have let this happen!"

Helen's voice deepened, filled with tears and rage as she lashed out at her youngest daughter's cruel words, "Well he's not here anymore!" Alice saw her draw up her face as her mother gently scolded her proud daughter. "You can't just make things however you want them to be. Every woman must face that, Alice." Consternation filled her mother's features as she looked down on her. "I've had to."

Alice hated this. She hated the betrayal, she hated her mother. She sneered up her face, her eyes narrowing, as she delivered a death blow to the woman before her, "Well the last thing I want is to end up like you."

She turned hotly on her heels, running quickly from the woman she wanted to do nothing more to than strangle at this moment. Rage in her belly, Alice felt hot tears come to her eyes. Was there no one in this world that was on her side?


	2. Part II

Alice ran quickly from her mother; half shocked by the appalling words that had come from her mouth (even if the sentiment had been true in that moment) and half still furious over the situation her mother had put her in. She couldn't believe that she had gone and done something so foolish as giving over Hamish the bonds to the house, and now he would lord it over her, knowing he could get exactly what he wanted because her mother had put her in a checkmate!

Alice sprinted down the corridor and out through the backdoors to the blooming greenhouse that the elder Lady Ascot had been keeping since Alice was a little girl. It had been a respite and a hideaway for Alice even when she was little and forced to attend tea at the Ascots in order to ensure what her mother called "friendly business relations" with the wealthier family. She had discovered the allure of the little glass house one afternoon when she was younger after a particularly horrid argument between she and Margaret, in which Alice had promptly spilled tea all down Margaret's gossamer tea gown.

Knowing she would be in a heap of trouble, Alice had taken off in search of a sanctuary; she had discovered it among the tropical palm fronds, striped tiger lilies, and sumptuous tuberose that Lady Ascot so lovingly tended to every day.

Alice was glad to see that the building was still maintained, hurrying her way along the walk and slipping into the room, shutting the door behind her. She was grateful for an inviting bench that was placed not far inside the floral enclosure. She took a seat, restlessly trying to organize her wild thoughts, her head spinning with anger and dismay.

"Sign over the _Wonder_ ," she whispered to herself, a mere breathless acknowledgement that made her situation exceedingly real, "and give up the impossible?" _No, no, this was not how it was supposed to work out_ , Alice grieved, her face falling into her hands as her elbows rested on her knees.

"Then who will I be?"

A question she thought she had answered long ago. But if she was not sailing on the high seas, and she was not exploring exotic exciting lands, and she was stuck in London working a monotonous, predictable toil, who was she? Alice was a girl who grabbed onto life and ran with it; she was muchy and she was brave.

If she lost the impossible, she would revert back to being another plan nobody. Another boring Lady Alexandra, or worse, a positively droll James Harcourt.

Her tears began to fall quickly behind her hands, damping her cheeks and plopping onto the silk skirt of the Chinese costume. She had been so content on pitying her situation that she had not noticed the emperor blue butterfly flutter to land on white orchid across the path from her. She did not recognize its existence until it spoke.

"You're Alice, of course," its deep voice seemed to be already bored with the conversation.

Alice looked up, peering at the creature between her fingers, astonished that it had spoken. Or, at least she _thought_ it had spoken. But surely despair could disillusion one into believing that _perhaps_ a butterfly _could_ talk…

"Absolem?" Alice dropped her hands, hope filling her face as she leaned forward to look at the blue creature.

In response, the butterfly fluttered upwards, appearing to start in her direction before darting off towards the door. In hope and desperation Alice stood, quickly tracking the graceful creature as it waited for her to open the glass doors she had shut. When she did, he took off at rapid speed, Alice having to run yet again to chase him.

The butterfly led her along the patio and through the back doors she had burst out from previously. She followed in amazement as he led her once more into the great ballroom, where she promptly bumped into a gentleman who harrumphed his displeasure at his interrupted waltz. Alice began a string of apologies, but abandoned all hope of forgiveness when she lost sight of the butterfly.

She deftly maneuvered around the dancers, making her way through the spinning couples as she carefully scanned the room for the royal blue of the butterfly's wing; a color that surely had to stick out among the muted tones. Her estimation had been right when she looked up to see an impatient blue butterfly fluttering in circles near the golden chandelier.

Alice blindly followed; although she had noticed that the chandelier was over the banquet table, she had really given it little second thought. Instead, she placed a foot firmly on an empty chair next to the table and hoisted herself up, her next footfall landing firmly in a custard that had been placed on the outskirts of the deserts.

She continued to trampled over silverware, plates, cupcakes, petit fours, and centerpieces on her mad scrambled to chase after the butterfly. She had already smashed most of the food and attracted the dancers' attentions, nearing the ornate crystal and gold chandelier when she heard her mother's cry of embarrassment.

"Alice!" Helen quickly pushed her way through the gaping dancers in a desperate attempt to grab hold of her daughter. "What are you doing? Get _down_ from there!"

Absolem fluttered onwards, and while Alice had given a glance in her mother's direction, she had already decided her mother's betrayal made her not worth her time or thought. Instead she continued in pursuit, the clattering of the food and dinner utensils beneath her feet the only sound in the dumbstruck room.

Alice saw his red hair before she realized who it was, but one man had not turned to take in the sight of the table crossing attendee.

Hamish was standing at the end of the table, his back to her, talking animatedly with board members who were paying him little heed and instead looked up at Alice who was charging their way. Hamish was clearly too wrapped up in his conversation to notice the stillness of the room, the only thing catching his attention was Absolem as he brushed by the lord's ugly red mustache.

"Ugh!" Hamish cried, swatting his free hand menacingly at the creature. "Bloody moths."

He made a second attempt at striking Absolem down, but was stopped by Alice, who had come to the bug's rescue and landed atop of Hamish, wrestling him to the floor.

"What in the devil…" Hamish cried out as he hit the hardwood, rolling over Alice a few times before the two came to a stop. "Alice?"

"Sorry, I've got to go, Hamish," Alice shoot him an apologetic look, but did not stop to brush the dust from her skirts. She continued after the butterfly.

"Someone stop her before she injures any of my guests!" Hamish cried, climbing to his feet and trying to brush the spilled champagne and shattered glass from his nice suit.

"Helen! Control your daughter!" Alice could hear the elder Lady Ascot command her mother.

Helen cried after the younger blonde, "Alice! Alice! What are you doing?"

Alice continued forward, only to have two footman step in her way at the door. One made a grab for her, his large hands nearly catching her sleeve. Alice pulled away from him, stepping back and looking for an escape route.

Instead, she noticed an ornate vase on the side table. She quickly grabbed the porcelain in hand, ripping the roses from its center by their heads, tossing them aside. She then splashed the water in the face of the younger guard, then tossed the entire vase with all her strength at the face of the older guard. Both grunted and stepped back; the younger one trying to get water from his eyes and the older one taken aback by the broken pottery. Alice took her chance to escape, pushing her way through the distracted butlers and continuing to run after the butterfly who fluttered slowly in the distance.

Alice followed the insect as he fluttered up the stairs, turning the corner nearly on his tail when she had reached the upper floor. She could hear the sound of voices calling after her, and footsteps quickly following her trail. She was glad when the butterfly picked up speed, soaring into the third room on the right. Alice entered on his figurative heels, shutting the door behind her and turning the key in the lock.

She turned to find that she had been led into an office; one that hadn't seen use in quite some time. A cluttered desk sat to the side with maps and documents strewn over its top. A chess game had been stared on the table that sat before it, the small carved figures laying long untouched on the marble checkered board. There was a globe and a bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. The smell of dust and mildew hung in the air as Alice ventured further in, looking about for the small butterfly who had led her here.

She caught site of a large antique mirror on the furthest wall, hung over an immense white marble fireplace. The mantle's top was laid with ornate green stone; a clock with exposed gears and cogs was set atop the emerald surface, housed in a bell jar. Alice could see her reflection in the dimly lit room, marveling at how this place could glow with splendor if it had just been cared for and lived in.

The blue butterfly appeared behind her, she caught sight of him in the looking glass before she turned to see him flutter over the chandelier above her head.

"Absolem," she tried once more, looking up at the flittering insect. She watched as he flew by her, gaining speed and heading right for the looking glass before them. She winced, waiting for the _tink_ of his small body hitting the polished glass, but was surprised to watch him fly right _through_ the mirror.

She gasped, not quite sure of what she had seen. Stepping up to the fireplace she dared reach a hand out to gently touch the surface, her fingers grazing what she expected to be cold glass.

Instead her fingers touched a surface that felt much akin to water, and she jerked her hand back to look at her fingers with wide eyed wonder and confusion. Though she had seen the tips of her fingers go through the surface, they had returned to her in one piece.

"Curious," she breathed.

The sound of the locked door handle being jiggled interrupted Alice's wonderment, and she turned to hear to her fear that the footman had discovered the room she was hiding away in.

"It's locked," a voice cried. "Someone's in there!"

Alice watched the door frantically, her heart beating in her chest. She knew she would be punished in some way or another for attacking Hamish as she had and for climbing the banquet table as she did.

 _There must be a way out_ , she thought, looking about and considering the window for a moment.

She then looked to the mirror, knowing what she had to do. Taking a moment to steel herself, she looked about the mantelpiece, looking for some way to reach the looking glass atop. She was too short to pull herself up and she doubted the strength of the pull into the other world her fingers had experienced to be able to completely suck her in.

The pounding on the door and the shouts increased, sending Alice into a panic as she frantically looked for a foothold up. She spied one; a piano bench that had been careless place to the side of the fireplace. She quickly placed her boot on the top of it, hoisting herself up. The top of the thick fire grate allowed her a second foothold, making her tall enough to clamber atop the mantel and reach the looking glass.

"There's someone in your father's study!" A masculine voice called from the other side of the room, clearly trying to garner Lord Ascot's attention.

Alice turned determinedly to the looking glass, catching sight of her face in the mirror. _Right, here we go,_ she thought to herself. _It can't be much worse than falling down a rabbit's hole_. Alice took a final deep breath and stepped forward, straight into the mirror.

The atmosphere around her rippled and felt like water, cool and fluid, but she found that it was not wet. She was able to breath as she passed through, and she could have sworn she heard Mirana calling her name.

A third step projected her through the middle of the world and quickly into the beginning of the next…

…which upon stepping onto the edge of the oversized looking glass, appeared to be the study she just came from. Albeit, it was much larger and actually occupied.

She looked about her, startled by the increased size of the new study she had stepped into. She was small enough to be able to stand upon the frame of the looking glass on this side of the mirror.

Cautiously she stepped down, taking in the sight of the room basked in warm firelight. The walls next to her bore two large oil paintings; one of a man in polite Edwardian clothing, the other a woman in mid-Renaissance dress. The room was also lit by the faint glow of the chandelier in the middle of the room, which shone down on a tiger rug— an _actual_ tiger rug— that roared at the sight of Alice. Below her a chess game run entirely my sentient pieces were in the midst of a match, and beside her the bell jar clock had an actual face that watched her suspiciously.

"Curiouser and curiouser," she mused as she walked along the mantel, watching the beings in the identical room move about. This certainly wasn't London anymore.

The sound of neighing from the battling knights below piqued Alice's curiosity further, and she looked about for a way to get from the mantel to the table below. Looking to her left she noticed a drapery cord hanging from about the painting above. She took a running start toward it, leaping just as she reached the end of the mantle, and hit the rope with a sharp _oof_!. Hugging the rope tightly, she began to slide down the coarse material, her soft silk costume allowing her to descend the cord easily. She reached the thick tassel on the end, serving as her stopping point, and then leapt to the table beside it.

In her transition she startled a white knight, who reared and whinnied. He looked down at her disdainfully when he had collected himself, snorting in disagreement. Alice was readying herself to apologize when a black knight jumped up from behind, sending the white piece to his side on the chessboard and Alice stumbling back out of its way. Pinwheeling her arms, she struggled for balance as she continued to move backwards, finding her next braking point a round creature behind her.

Turning with a gasp she found that she had upset what appeared to be an egg— he was dressed in a tweed suit with a beautiful bowtie tucked between his nearly flat chin.

"Oh no! Not _again!_ " He cried in dismay, as he fell from his small wall, tumbling backwards toward the side of the table and dropping over the edge. Alice and several of the chess pieces tried to run after him in a hope to stop the rolling egg, but only caught up enough to see his long fall. He ended up on the red Persian rug below in pieces.

"Sorry!" Alice called down to the cracked egg below.

The white king piece jumped forward next to Alice, startling her and nearly causing her to fall over the edge as well. "All my horses! All my men!" He cried as he waved his scepter. "To the rescue!"

Alice watched in amazement as the white chess pieces hopped up from behind her, quickly jumping the height of the side table to the floor below. Pawns and rooks began sorting through the shattered remains of who Alice assumed was once Humpty Dumpty, making puns about the assembling of their friend.

"It's not all it's _cracked_ up to be!"

"He's a mere _shell_ of a man!"

"Oh please!" One of the pawns whined. "Must you _always_ make that joke?"

"Don't you mean _yoke_?" His companion said.

In the midst of the piecing together, Alice slid down the leg of the table, landing on the floor with a grunt. She began to wander amidst the men in search of Humpty's face. She found one of his blinking green eyes at the outskirts of the shell mess, picking up the piece.

"I'm sorry," she breathed once more, feeling terrible for the mess she had caused in less than five minutes of her arrival.

"Clumsy as always, and twice as dim," a familiar nasally voice interrupted her apology and she dropped the piece of egg shell from her vision to see that the blue butterfly, much like the rest of the world, had grown. "I thought you'd never get the idea."

It _was_ Absolem. Now that he was so much bigger, she could see the monocle resting upon his right eye, his expression one of constant disgust and disinterest. He flapped his wings, sending gusts her way as he fluttered into the air above her.

Alice passed on the piece of Humpty she had picked up to a rook before turning to the giant blue butterfly to address him.

"Oh, Absolem," Alice said with relieved joy.

Absolem fluttered closer, his face twisting into that of worry. Alice found herself puzzled at the change in temperament. "You've been gone too long, Alice," he mused, his wings flapping gently as he spoke with her, sending her skirts rustling. "And _he_ will be gone before long."

Alice began to walk side by side with her old mentor, trying to make sense of the riddle he gave her, but coming up with no answers. There was a world full of _he_ s— which specific one was Absolem referring to?

"Who will be gone?" She did her best not to be annoyed with the puzzle; after all, this _was_ Underland. She best get used to multiple layers of conversation in a single sentence. "What has happened?"

"All will become clear," Absolem answered as he led her toward the furthest wall, "in the fullness of Time."

Alice noticed a small door built into the larger one before her; glad this time around to find that she was the right size and no shrinking or growing had to be done. She would much rather leave the pishsalver and upelkuchen for more experienced diners.

"For now you must hurry!" Absolem indicted to the door before her with his antennae. Alice sighed, knowing she'd have to go through to the unknown. Just as nothing was ever straightforward in Underland, so also was nothing ever simple.

She strode forward to the door, putting her hand on the curved handle. She pressed down on the knob, opening the door before her.

"Oh, and Alice," Absolem called behind her. Alice turned her head as she continued through the door. "Do mind your step." He finished.

The suggestion puzzled her for a brief moment— until she pressed all of her weight into her lead foot, finding nothing but air beneath it.

"AAAAaaaahhhh!" Alice screamed as she began a freefall down, down, down once more. This time she was not falling down a rabbit hole, but was merely falling through brilliant blue skies.

The belled sleeves of her costume billowed out beside her, her skirts flapping in the wind as she tumbled. First she fell head over heel until she met a strange circle of round pink objects.

She was shocked when she was suspended in the midst of the first one, looking over to see that the things that she had seen floating were actually flying, as it was a round flock of flamingos that hovered in the heavens. Alice looked at the first one with wide eyed terror and confusion.

"Hey!" It chirped in irritation, sending Alice to the next level of birds. There she was also stopped, her momentum slowing as she pressed closer and closer to the ground below.

She passed through three more flamingo rings before she met the earth at a much slower speed, careening headlong into a cherry blossom tree with a scream and finally ending up in a garden of pale chrysanthemums that ultimately broke her fall.

Her landing had sent up a pink petal storm that was settling around her as she sat up on her knees. Lifting her head with a small groan, she noticed first a large pile of books, slowly discovering that she had fallen in the midst of a circle stone table. A set of gleeful giggles erupted behind her and she turned to behold the friends that she so feared she had lost.

There sat Mallymkun the dormouse and Thackery the March Hare, the Tweedle twins, Nivens McTwisp the White Rabbit, Bayard the Bloodhound, and off to the corner was the Bandersnatch that she had rescued from the stables of the Red Queen's castle. In the midst of the revelry was Mirana, the White Queen of Marmoreal. Alice returned their happy grins, glad to find that of all the places she could have tumbled it was amidst old friends.

"Alice!" McTwisp bounded forward to join his dear friend who was still sitting among the crushed flowers. "Thank goodness you're _finally_ here!" He nuzzled her arm affectionately, drawing her into a small hug. She returned the gesture by wrapping her free arm about his back, smiling at the adorable white rabbit who had for once not led her to tumble down the rabbit hole.

"'ey, ets tha' gurl agin!" Thackery's accent was thick, and his yellow eyes looked at her with a giddy confusion. A scroll was draped over his pointing arm. Alice looked at him with happy amusement, glad that even the confused hare could piece together who she was.

"Alice!" It was the Tweedles' turn to grab the girl's attention. Tweedledee calling her name first.

"You're back!" Tweedledum responded with as much enthusiasm.

Even the Bandersnatch seemed pleased that the Champion was here, giving a roar of delight that sent McTwisp hopping back to his place at the table and Alice's hair flying and her arms up to act as a shield against his spit.

"Don't be nice to her!" Mally was the only one at the table that was seemingly unpleased with Alice's arrival. She stood upon a stack of books, a cross look on her small dormouse face. "She's _late_!" The small creature lanced an ink pen toward Alice.

Alice frowned at the valiant creature, shaking her head in misunderstanding. "Have I come at a bad time?"

Mirana finally spoke up from the middle of the group, her gaze dropping as she confessed, "We were afraid you weren't coming at all." Her face looked troubled, and Alice noticed that she looked as if she had hardly slept.

"What's the matter?" Alice looked about the group and saw that most of the faces looked dismayed and weary.

"The Hatter's the matter!" McTwisp held up a sheet of paper that showed a crude drawing of a very stern looking hatter. Alice frowned, recognizing that her dear friend was not one of the guests at the table.

"Or the matter of the Hatter," Dum contradicted at the opposite side of the table.

"The former," Dee interjected.

"No! The latter!" Dum shoved his brother as he defended his position. Dee gave an exasperated shrug, rolling his eyes, shoving his brother back.

"Tweedles," Mirana interrupted with an uncharacteristic tone of annoyance, looking over to the boys with an silencing look.

The boys quickly dropped their dispute, leaning toward Alice and saying in a unified hushed tone: "He's _mad_."

Alice's light eyebrows twisted in confusion. "The Hatter?" she looked at the boys.

"Yes!"

"Yes, I know!" Alice nearly giggled at the suggestion _Who_ _ **didn't**_ _know that the Hatter was mad?_ She wondered as she quickly pulled her disheveled blonde waves from her face. Her hair had fallen out of its delicate twist in her fall. She stood from the chrysanthemum bed as she secured her hair in a much simpler updo. "That's his muchness," she explained as she hopped over the table to stand on the proper side. "That's what makes him… _him_." She answered with a shrug, not sure how else could sum up Tarrant Hightopp with other than, well, _mad_.

"But he's grown darker," Dee shook his head, disagreeing with the once Champion.

"Less dafter," Dum nodded in agreement.

"Denies himself laughter," Dee carried on with a serious tone.

"And no scheme of ours can raise any sort of smile," a husky voice rang down from the bough of the cherry blossom. Alice looked up to see that the gray and teal Cheshire cat, Chess, had appeared in its dip. "We'd rather hoped you might help us save him," the cat crossed his front paws, leaning forward as he looked down at Alice pleadingly.

 _If Chess is sincerely concerned, there_ _ **must**_ _be something wrong,_ Alice pondered, looking back to the Queen and the creatures around her.

"What happened?" Alice asked.

Mirana looked to Bayard, whose hound face fell into sad memory as he recounted the tale of the changing of the Hatter.

"There was a great storm," his deep voice began, his brown eyes welling with tears. "We ventured out into the Tulgey Woods to investigate. We began a game of fetch, taking turns among one another on who would go after the stick next," the dog looked to the hare and the dormouse. "When it was the Hatter's turn, I threw the stick far. I believe it landed at the base of a stump. Hatter was perfectly Hatter-ish until…" the hound's voice trailed off.

"Until what?" Alice asked looking for more answers.

"That blue paper hat somehow put him in mind of his family's tragedy." Bayard answered her heavily. "Slain by the Jabberwocky on Horunvendush Day many years ago." The dog recalled a catastrophe Alice knew of from her own conversation with her beloved Hatter.

"He's just not himself anymore." Mally said, her small voice distressed and thick with tears.

Alice felt the weight of the situation falling heavily on her shoulders. _What could have caused him to think back to that horrible tragedy? What is this about a blue paper hat?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the raspy voice of Mirana as she looked to the girl hopefully. "If anything could bring the Hatter back," her mouth began to curl into a somber smile, "it would be seeing you again!"

The rest of the party nodded and voiced their unified agreement, all surrounding Alice expecting her answer. Of course Alice already knew it. It was Tarrant Hightopp, after all, the milliner that had provided her protection and believed in her when she had returned to Underland not quite herself. Surely she would be a good friend to do the same in his time of need.

"Well," Alice's green eyes looked around to her friends, "where is he?" She asked with impatience.

The group pointed simultaneously to the space behind Alice— all except the March Hare who pointed in the opposite direction, only to sheepishly correct himself when he looked about the group.

Alice turned, not at all surprised at the location where she could find Tarrant.

Just beyond the hill where the table sat stood a house that look exactly like a hat. Its walls were rounded to create the shape of a headpiece and its roof jutted out akin to the brim of a hat. It was perched on a summit in the midst of the valley just beyond; not too far a walk from where the group was pondering the fate of their beloved Hatter.

* * *

Alice made her way to the front porch of the Hightopp house in a matter of minutes; her eagerness to see what was ailing her friend and her impatience to see him after all this time quickening her pace. The house looked sensible as she approached the door; it was painted red with white accents, a lovely contrast against the luscious green and blue of the vegetation and rushing waterfall just beyond.

Alice stepped up to the square door, pausing for a moment to ready herself to greet her friend, before emphatically rapping on the wood.

"Go away!" A lisping voice from inside responded to her knock.

"Tarrant, it's me," Alice called, not one to be sent away so easily. When no answer still came, she eagerly added "Alice!"

At the sound of her name the door burst open. Peeking around the edge was Tarrant, his face gravely serious, an expression that was foreign and worrying on him. His skin was paler, the vibrant colors about his eyes dulling. His usual red mess of a curly hair was tamed and tidied to fall in even waves about his face. He had even shed his patched brown pinstripe suit and kaleidoscope cravat for a gray three piece and a sobering black bowtie.

He certainly _wasn't_ very Hatter-like.

At the sight of her, however, he perked just a bit, some of the color coming back to his sharp cheeks, his green eyes flashing a deeper green as he looked upon his dear blonde adventurer.

"Alice," he lisped affectionately, his voice light and airy in surprise. "You're here!" He stepped into the light of the sun, out of the dark interior of the house that he had clearly been hiding away in. "And you're you!" He reached forward, taking her into a hug, pressing his body against hers as his face buried into her mane of blonde curls.

Alice returned the hug with a bright smile, glad at last to show some affection to a man that had meant so much to her. She squeezed him harder, until he broke it suddenly. Her face fell, worrying that perhaps she had been a little _too_ enthusiastic about greeting her long unseen friend.

"You are _you_ , aren't you?" He asked with a long face. She couldn't help but smile once more as he quickly let go of her arms to allow his hands to travel across her face. He was being absolutely ridiculous, a side of him she was more than relieved to see.

"Yes, Tarrant," she grinned as his palms covered her eyes briefly. He let go of her face and then grabbed her waist once more, spinning her in a circle as if to complete a full check of her personhood.

"Good," he nodded his head firmly. He then leaned out the door of the house, looking about suspiciously before adding, "you're the only one."

He pulled Alice inside the house before she could even glance about to see what may be lurking in the hedges. The door shut firmly behind the pair as he led her into his sitting room.

He stood before her, his colors darkening once again, his lips a dark red instead of their normal bright rouge. Alice listened to him intently as he finally began to explain what he had meant.

"You'll always be Alice," he said with a sad smile, "and that's how I know you'll believe me." His green eyes looked at her hopefully as he stood before her, waning away. Alice felt her heart pounding, knowing instinctively that the situation was grave.

 _Oh, please let my presence here be your balm_ , Alice thought, her face brightening as she smiled up at him. "I've missed you, Tarrant," she breathed gaily.

"It's my family, Alice," he continued on, not recognizing her delight. He walked past her, Alice looking on in concern.

She followed him quickly into the next room, where he stood thoughtfully before a portrait of stern looking red heads all gathered around a top hat.

"Your family?" Alice surmised, examining the painting before her.

"Yes," Tarrant replied, his lisping voice deepening as he looked up at the ginger group. "Lost for many years…or so I thought." He turned with a mischievous grin. Alice returned the look with puzzlement.

He went to a small desk that stood before one of the windows at the far side of the room. She watched curiously as he opened a glass case, pulling from its depths a small blue object. Turning to present what he had retrieved, she knew exactly what Bayard meant.

 _A small blue hat_ , she wondered at it.

It was crudely made, fashioned from delicate blue crepe. It had a small brown button and the tiniest of peacock feathers embellishing its flattened brim. The hat was clearly torn by something, unable to open fully or stand on its own. It was small and seemingly meaningless, but Alice assumed there was more to the story to trouble the Hatter so.

"The very first hat I made long, long ago," his voice was straining as he related the importance of the ruined head piece. "It's impossible for it to be here and yet…" he held out the hat before her with a small hopeful grin. "Here it is."

Alice winced as she looked into his green eyes, wet and shimmering with tears. He harbored a hope that she wanted to help blossom, but she was afraid would never truly be realized.

"Seeing as this hat survived, my family must have to," he looked at her expectantly.

"Hatter," Alice tried to interrupt, wanting to stop her friend before he continued on in his false assumptions.

"I thought I wasn't worthy of the Hightopp name," Tarrant hiccupped at the admission, his green eyes dropping in shame. "A very serious man, my father," he turned from Alice, placing the small hat back in its case. Alice listened on, helpless and not wanting to interrupt the milliner's nostalgic musings. "We had a terrible fight…I never said I was sorry when I had the chance."

Alice felt a pang in her chest at the mention of a fight between parent and child. She had had a slight row recently, herself. _But my mother deserved those harsh words,_ Alice tried to unsuccessfully convince herself.

"This means that I can make things right!" Tarrant's voice was bright once more, his lisp falling away as he looked across the room to her with his usual gap toothed smile.

"Hatter," Alice tried again to quell her friend's unfounded excitement. "Your family…uhhh…" she approached him cautiously, watching as the grin on his face faded, his mouth falling open into a wounded gape. Alice winced as she came to stand before him, reaching to place a comforting hand on his arm.

"You do believe me, don't you Alice?" Tarrant asked, pressing a hand to his chest as he looked down expectantly at the muchy blonde girl.

"I want to," Alice began, trying to delicately let her friend down.

Tarrant shook his head, stepping back from her. She gasped as she saw his red hair whiten. She had noticed before that it was streaked with light highlights, but had not thought much of it. Now she realized what they meant as she watched Tarrant stumbled into the wall behind him, placing as much distance between the two of them as possible.

 _Oh, Tarrant_ , Alice's heart broke as she watched her friend stumble for strength and balance. He collapsed into a chair finally, Alice rushing to his side to be sure he was alright. "Tarrant!" She cried, falling to her knees before him. "You're not well!" Her heart raced as she placed her hands on her friend's arms once more. "What can I do?" She begged. _Slay another Jabberwocky? Scrub this place clean? Sit at the tea table for a decade tossing scones and shouting 'move down'?_

_Anything but…_

"Of course," Tarrant interrupted her mental checklist, a smile once again crossing his face. " _My_ Alice," how her heart fluttered at that intonation, "could bring my family back to me."

 _Anything but that_. Alice thought heavily. "But…Tarrant…the thing is…your family died. Long ago. You told me so yourself." Her heart broke as she had to tell her dear friend such a heavy truth. She remembered his own grave face when he had recounted the horrors of the Jabberwocky attack to her those three years ago.

Tarrant darkened as he looked down at Alice, his face graying and the red left in his hair deepening as his green eyes tinged orange. He clearly did not believe a word of what she was saying.

"No one can bring them back," Alice whispered to her friend, sadly. She reached out to try to take his hand in hers, wishing to comfort his reawakening of grief. _Oh, of all the things you could forget, why must it be that?_ Alice thought morosely.

"No one but you!" He leaned forward toward her, his green eyes watching her intently as he clearly believed that she could be the savior again in this moment. Her eyes dropped to his lap before her, too ashamed to look up and admit that even she, the brave and cunning Alice, could not perform miracles like raising people from the dead.

If she could have, she would have done it long ago.

"I'm sorry," she earnestly replied, looking up at him once more with tears sheening in her own green eyes. "But it's…it's…" _Damn,_ she would have to use the world she strictly forbade in insurmountable circumstances. An utterance of defeat. "…It's impossible."

Tarrant's eyebrows crossed as he looked away from her, his gaze at her hands clutching his suggesting that he couldn't believe the sentence she had just uttered to him. He shut his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

When he opened them she felt truly afraid and alarmed.

His eyes had bleached a pale white, his creases darkening around them. His skin grayed over and his hair turned a grim rusty red. His lips blackened as he sneered down at her.

"Yew," his voice was raspy and thick and dark and filled with that horrifying accent. "Ahre nawt yew."

He grabbed her suddenly, and for a moment she was afraid that he would cause her harm.

But angry and heartbroken as he was, he was still _her_ Hatter. He would do nothing to hurt her in any way.

At least not physically.

Her heart, however, shattered into a million pieces as he dragged her to the door, pulling her roughly by the hand. He grabbed hold of the handle, thrusting the portal open and turning to her curtly.

"Tarrant _please_ ," she begged for him to listen to her.

"Ge' ouwt!" His accent was still thick as he thrust her from his house.

Alice spun about quickly, ready to throw herself back into his arms if that was what it would take to stop him. His look back at her was what had stopped her.

It was a look of disappointment. His pale eyes gleamed back at her, thick with unshed tears. His color had come back just a touch as he paused, staring her down with a crooked mouth, one that looked ready to burst forth with wails of heartbreak.

"I don't know who you are," his accent had dropped, his lisp light and gentle as he looked at her. "You're not my Alice. _My_ Alice would believe me." He insisted with determination and the tipping of his chin.

Alice felt her heart shatter into a million pieces; for his own hurt and for the look of disdain he held in her eyes for him.

 _I thought I knew who I was, too,_ Alice thought darkly as she looked back him. _But I suppose we are both doubting my place._

She jumped as he slammed the door in her face. She quickly went to knocking, looking through the stained glass. She watched as he stumbled through the sitting room, his color quickly draining as the last of his hopes washed away. "Tarrant!" she cried after him. "Tarrant! Tarrant! Please! _Please!_ "

He continued on without looking back at her.

Knowing there was no more she could do without him letting her back in of his own accord, she turned and fled back to the eagerly waiting group at the table with bad news.

* * *

She hurried back over the hills and down into the cherry blossom grove where she was greeted by expectant grins and cheers. Alice returned their hopefulness with a frown and an urgent command.

"We must do something!" Alice looked directly to the queen who saw her look of dismay, Mirana's smile fading from her dark lips. She nodded her head, signaling for Alice to continue. "He's so dreadfully ill!" The image of Tarrant stumbling away from her, having left her locked behind the door, filled her mind as she voiced her feared assumptions. "I fear…" she looked away from the queen, not wanting to say what she knew she must. "I fear he's…he's dying."

At the sound of the word 'dying' the group broke out into wails and moans. Mirana's face fell, her normally gathered hands falling to her sides as she looked to Alice with wet brown eyes.

"Oh dear, oh dear," McTwisp rang his hands as he stood beside the Tweedles who were trying to console one another.

"We can't lose him, Alice," Mally let loose a small dormouse tear as she looked up to the blonde mournfully from the top of Bayard's head. The dog's ears had dropped at the delivery of the horrendous news. "We can't!"

Even the March Hare, who normally seemed to have no clue of what was occurring, seemed distraught over the thought of his nearest and dearest tea party friend losing the will and power to live.

Alice was as desperate as they were to save her dear friend, but she wasn't sure of where to even begin. "He said to make him better I must bring his family back," Alice explained to Mirana who listened intently. "But that…that can't be!"

Alice watched as the queen's look of heartache transformed into one of thought. Her gaze dropped away from Alice and off to the side as she tapped a long finger to her dark lip.

"Unless it could," she answered mysteriously, her gaze wondering in thought once more to the other side of her view.

The group of creatures looked up to their monarch with fascinated gazes, all curious as to what the White Queen could have up her lacey sleeve. Even Alice waited patiently for Mirana to explain.

The only creature that seemed to catch on to Mirana's train of thought was McTwisp, who let out a gasp of horror as the queen turned from the group, her hand swaying before her face as she weighed the options.

"Unless there was a way," Mirana began to descend into the ruins of castle that stood just beyond the table, the group following with bated breaths as they eagerly anticipated Mirana's plan.

"No, no, no, no!" McTwisp protested as he pulled at the queen's skirt, trying to stop the woman's scheming before it got out of hand. "You mustn't, you _mustn't_!" His high voiced bellowed.

"What is it!" Alice's short patience ran out; she hurried after the queen who was still chasing her thoughts.

"It's dangerous," Mirana responded with mock concern, "perilous! It is too much to ask!" She continued on in a tone that suggested that indeed she was _going_ to ask.

Alice knew she would be the one who would be called upon. "What is it?" Her tone thick with irritation.

"Alice," Mirana turned to the girl with a smiling face, "you must travel back in Time." Her fingers flowed away from the girl as she explained her newly thought of plan.

Alice paused as the queen and the creatures continued forward, taken aback by what was said to her.

"Oh, no." McTwisp paused with Alice, shaking his head.

The two were quick to follow after the group, ascending a pair of stone stairs, watching as Mirana politely lifted her skirts as she ascended them, explaining her plan to the blonde behind her the entire way. "Go back into the past and save the Hatter!" Her tone sounded as carefree as if she was suggesting Alice to present Tarrant with a 'get well soon' notary.

"If the Hatter's delusion is made true..." Bayard caught on to whatever Mirana was suggesting.

"Then he will be made well again," Chess apparated at Alice's shoulder.

"Go back in time?" Alice repeated incredulously. _Was she the only one who realized that that was nearly as impossible as resurrecting a person, not to mention an entire clan?_ "How?"

"The chronosphere," Chess answered her, creating a small round object out of cloud-like evaporating material.

Alice felt like she had just landed in Underland for the first time all over again. All these strange words and devices she didn't know! "I'm sorry," she interrupted before the conversation grew too long. "The Chrono-what?"

"The chronosphere," McTwisp was willing to explain to Alice just what everyone was musing about. "The source that powers the Grand Clock of all of Time." He hopped forward. "Legend has that it allows whoever has it to travel across the ocean of time."

Alice's head was spinning with all the information presented to her. _If time travel were possible, why not take it and go back to fix the mistakes made?_ Alice pondered.

"None of us can go," Mirana responded, as if being able to hear Alice's thoughts, "because we've all been in the past. And if your past self sees your future self," she hissed as her face grew grave.

Alice looked at her with wide green eyes, wondering what horrible things could happen if a paradox _was_ created. "What happens?" She whispered, almost too afraid to ask.

The look of concern fell from Mirana's face, "There's no history of it happening," she confessed, tempting Alice's short temper once more. "But it is said if it were to happen, everything would be history." She waved a hand regally behind her, as if to demonstrate the chaos that would ensue. Though she stepped forward without further worry.

Alice watched her press on with growing concern over taking the item. "That sounds very dangerous." Alice found herself readily agreeing with Mirana's original statement.

"It is!" McTwisp agreed, hopping onto a stone as the group wandered through the bowels of the ruins to appear in the sunlight once again, Marmoreal looming in the distance. "Extremely so!"

Alice wasn't surprised that he was the only one to show caution.

"But since you're not from here," Bayard ignored the rabbit's warning, "only you can use it, Alice."

"It's not _impossible_ ," Chess evaporated in front of the group, stretching his tubby body. "Merely _unpossible_." He suggested.

Alice took a moment to ponder what she was going to do, but she wasn't sure why she even wasted the energy. She knew from the start that whatever was suggested, no matter how deadly or dangerous, she would take the mission on. She turned to the group, looking down on them with determination.

"Tarrant is my truest friend," she began gravely. 'If he's in need, I will help him; no matter what."

The group gave a cheer and a round of applause at Alice's short speech; no need to pull teeth or twist words for a Champion this time around!

Alice looked to Mirana for further direction, "Now where exactly is this chronosphere?"

Mirana nodded her head, a light smile playing across her dark lips. "In the hands of Time," she replied matter-o-factly. "It's his."

Alice screwed her face up, not sure if she heard the monarch correctly. But this _was_ Underland after all; the notion shouldn't surprise her too greatly.

She still took a moment to allow puzzlement to cross her face as she pieced together the information she was provided. "I'm sorry…Time is a _he_?"

"Ah yes," Mirana nodded her head. "You have much to catch up in Underlandian knowledge." She gathered up her skirts, heading forth into the fields before them. "We have a short walk to Marmoreal, so I'll do my best to catch you in the meantime."

* * *

After further explanation of the origins of Time, and thus Underlandian, and a walk across the field to the gates of Marmoreal, Alice found herself standing before a sectioned off room from the rest of the great castle. Mirana pushed it open to reveal a small room coated in webs and inhabited by dust motes. The White Queen led the group inside.

In the midst of the sunlit quarters was a cobweb filled twisting iron grandfather clock. It was bound by thick metal chains that wrapped from its base to its crown in twisting layers. Alice let out a small cough as she entered a room which clearly had not been happened upon in decades.

"He lives in a void of infinitude, in a castle of eternity." Mirana approached the clock with wonder, finishing up her lecture on the semi-deity of Underland. "Through here," she pointed to the door of the grandfather clock, "one mile past the pendulum."

With the flick of her delicate fingers, the chains fell from the clock, releasing it from its captivity and filling the room with thousands of paper butterflies. The sight caused the group to ponder in awe, gasping as the delicate creatures swept the room of its webs and dirt. Mirana looked proud as her handiwork gently flew out of the doors.

The door of the grandfather clock opened with a squeak; all pairs of eyes watching the time piece expectantly. A rush of cold air burst forth from its innards, causing McTwisp to remark, "Oh…very cold!"

Alice paused before the clock, her mind working quickly as she tried to review what she had just learned and sum up what must be done. "Find Time's castle, borrow the chronosphere, travel back in time to Horunvendush day, save the Hatter's family from being killed, and thereby save the Hatter." Alice ran through her list of impossibles, not wanting to forget a single thing she needed to accomplish.

"And do try not to break the past, present, or future," Chess suggested as he evaporated behind Alice's shoulder.

"Shh!" Mirana hissed at the cat. Alice felt her stomach flop at the suggestion, but she already knew she was fully on board with this quest, no matter the risks.

"I was only trying to help!" Chess protested, disappearing once more.

"What could go wrong?" The Tweedles offered, though the sight of Thackery pulling at his ears did not quell Alice's troubles.

Mirana offered Alice a hopeful smile as she watched the blonde woman move forward toward the door. Alice took a step inside the innards of the grandfather clock, dodging the swinging pendulum as soon as she entered.

"Fairfarren, Alice!" She heard Bayard send her the Outlandish farewell.

"Hattah's countin' on yew!" Mally reminded Alice of the purpose of her mission.

"We're _all_ counting on you," Chess corrected the dormouse, reminding Alice of the sobering reality of what could happen should she fail.

Alice gave one final look back at the light that was streaming steadily through the door. Her friends waved their farewells and Alice nodded her head, screwing up her courage.

She then turned to enter the dark that lay before her, beginning the trek to Time's castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that much of this story is unchanged from the original plot, and such will be the case for the next few parts, as I took little qualms with the set up (aside from the dumb fact that Alice couldn't be allowed to be captain and then later shamed for it, as it made absolutely no sense!). But the Queens' conflict will change, as well as the fact regarding the Hightopps' size and existence. So hold on tight.
> 
> As always, if you'd leave a review and a kudo, it's much appreciated!
> 
> I also made a playlist akin to Alice in Wonderland 2010's "Almost Alice" compilation. You can find it over at 8tracks under the name "Absolutely Alice" or my user name thelovelylydia! Maybe it can be a bit of a listening track while reading this monstrously sized piece!


	3. Part III

The world she had walked into was frigid, goose pimples formed under the less than ideal silk fabric of her costume, a shudder traveling down her spine. Alice continued forward in the dark, hoping that a mile in Underland functioned much like time did: it passed more quickly. However, as her feet inside her boots began to ache, she found that it was much the opposite. The mile seemed to take nearly twice as long as it should have, and time seemed to pass twice as slowly. She thought for half a heartbeat about turning back, trying to save Tarrant by other means, but she pushed the thought from her mind and pressed onwards.

A distant light began to dispel the eeriness of the walk behind Alice; squinting her eyes she spied a Gothic castle in the distance; its sharp spires twisting into points ends, its stained windows glowing faintly amidst the dizzying height. _This must be the Castle of Eternity_ , she thought grimly, but continued forward all the same. Glancing down the slight embankment she saw a deep chasm blocking the way between she and the fortress ahead of her.

She would need to find a way across the canyon, but a cursory glance around revealed that the waterless moat seemed to circle all the way about without any structure like drawbridge or portcullis that could be lowered to cross. With a frown, Alice leaned over the edge to measure its depth. The chasm appeared to be endless, its bottom a void her instincts strongly warned her would be best to avoid. Her eyebrows crossing in determination, Alice surveyed her options once more, hoping to find some sort of miracle.

Such salvation appeared in the form of a moving platform; a broad metal board that scraped loudly along the path of the moat, sending sparks flying as it traveled the circumference. Alice noticed a larger platform traversing the circle at a much slower speed, clicking loudly as the smaller platform moved below it, having completed its circuit.

A nod of understanding shook Alice's blonde locks as she realized they weren't platforms, but hands. The swifter moving board had to be seconds, it moved as quickly as they passed. The second board following in its wake was the minute hand, only moving when the clock had been fully traversed by its smaller measuring partner.

Time's castle was guarded by a giant clock face. Alice felt foolish for not recognizing the shape immediately.

Alice readied herself as the second hand came around again, shifting her weight into her feet so that she could spring forward once the curved hand passed before her. She eyed the sparks it sent flying warily knowing she would need to jump far enough to land on the widest part of the hand, missing the sparks that were sent up by its pointed end. She licked her lips, rocking readily as the hand passed closer. When it was near enough for her to step off, she took a flying leap, a grunt leaving her body as she expended her effort.

"OooH!" Alice shouted as she misjudged the hand, not realizing the rounded shape the platform boasted as a top. Her silks slid her easily over the metal, and she grabbed wildly for a handhold. Slipping her fingers into the cracked sides of the moving second hand, she was able to hold fast, praying feverishly that her digits would not fail her. Her invocations deepened as she looked down, spying the void beneath her. She quickly looked for her next platform, hoping it would come fast and soon.

A glance behind her revealed that this second hand was about to pass over a sleeping minute hand on its journey around the clock. Again, she would need to drop onto this platform with precision if she hoped to make it alive. Alice eyed it steadily, waiting until the second hand was right over the minute hand to let go her unsteady grip. She fell with no dignity onto the minute hand below with a loud groan, glad to find that this platform was flat and she would have little danger of sliding off like she did with the previous one.

She slowly rose to her feet, her hands wavering as she tried to regain her balance, ignoring the chasm directly below. She planted her feet, knowing that as quickly as the second turned, so would the minute. Finding her footing at the right time allowed Alice to stay atop the glass lined hand, a small gasp highlighting the swift movement of the clock to her right. Her arms splayed out, making up her lost balance and keeping her standing. When she had regained her center, she quickly took off running down the length of the platform, wishing to be quickly ushered away from the chasm and the dangers that lay with moving hands.

The long metal platform led to a steep set of stairs that rose up into the innards of the castle before her; a filigreed wrought iron gate welcomed her into the castle before her. Alice took a moment to ready herself to meet such an immeasurable and no doubt awe inspiring being such as Time. She had never met an infinite being before and wondered if the same courtesies one would pay to a monarch or dignitary would be proper. With a shrug, she pushed forward, her palm pressing against the cold metal of the gate.

The door opened with a whining _creak_ , causing Alice to startle. While she knew that Mirana would never send her somewhere unsafe without a warning, Alice couldn't fight how eerie it felt to be entering such a…quiet…castle. Even the halls of Marmoreal had echoed with the _click_ -ing of courtiers' shoes, the swishing of skirts, and the whispers of servants and gentlemen and women. Time's castle, for being such an important figure, was void of any foot traffic or noise. The silence set her nerves on edge.

Alice stepped forth through the door, crossing into a fortress as cavernous and vast as its outer appearance had been. The hallway served as a bridge into the interior of the castle; below the walkway was the makings of a clock, cogs and gears spinning and spitting as it pushed forward what Alice assumed was Time. Perhaps Time was not a man, perhaps Time was this castle. The building seemed to have been built using the inner workings of a clock.

"Hello?" Alice called out, half expecting the room to call back to her. "Is anybody here?" She tried once more, as she was greeted with nothing but the moans and aches of spinning cogs.

She continued through the hall into the grand corridor, figuring it would be best to explore such a grandiose castle than to turn and leave the way she came. Such a magnificent building must have been built for visitors, after all; the filigree and carved columns were far too spectacular to not be admired by guests. Her gaze followed the columns up to the high ceiling, admiring the vastness of such a fortress. If Time wanted to make an impression, he certainly succeeded at the task. The arches that framed the corridor were wonders in themselves, tall and finely pointed. Such architecture was befitting for such a magnanimous being.

As Alice continued on her stroll through the castle, the uncanny sense of being watched sent shivers down her neck. A faint tinking of metalwork behind her caused her to turn— to behold an empty walkway behind her. The tinking occurred once again, this time on the path she had been following. She whirled her head once more in that direction, this time finding a faint shadow before her.

Alice crept forward, bending slightly at the waist as she approached the unseen creature, "Hello?"

A shining steaming mosaic of time pieces burst out from its hiding spot, startling Alice who stepped back, throwing her hand up in instinctive protection. The creature did not seem interested in harming her, however, as it began a frantic sprint across a perpendicular suspended corridor, shouting a cry of " _tick, tick!"_ , its metal feet clacking on the floor.

Alice headed over in the direction it had sprinted in, hoping it would lead her to some answers about this castle and Time himself. She followed the creature down a flight of stairs, entering a small hall with several sharp sets of stairs, watching as the creature ran up another small flight before her. It fell to its feet in its frantic panic, _clank_ -ing heavily on the marble corridor before them. Alice canted her head slightly, watching the creature scramble to its feet in the shadow of nearly person-shaped archways.

The sound of marching footsteps ahead frightened her; she wondered for half a heartbeat if the tinny creature had been sending off some sort of warning cry. Ducking behind a large column, Alice tried to steady her breathing, peering out cautiously at what was coming towards her with rapid progression.

It was a man. He was tall and regally, and a bit ridiculously, dress. He wore atop his head a hat akin to a bearskin made entirely out of metal, enhancing his already colossal silhouette. His pale face bore thick black muttonchops. His cloak was shaped to have large wing-like shoulder pads which gave him an angular hourglass shape, much more akin to the time keeper than a corseted desire. His ridiculously thin legs extended below his billowing cloak tails, shod in knee-high black boots. His entire ensemble was black based with gold accents with the exception of his jodhpurs which were entirely white.

The man stomped down the hallway, muttering and waving his hand about as if having an argument with himself. Alice realized as he continued towards her that the arches were shaped to accommodate his silhouette.

 _He already seems a narcissist_ ¸ Alice observed grimly. She stepped back all the same, searching for better cover in which to conceal herself.

A resounding _thwack_ reverberated around the empty hall, Alice's attentions returning to the man once she had secured herself in the darkness. This time she found that he was not marching toward her, but had tumbled to the ground; his large hat had hit the curve of his arch which mirrored his shadow exactly, not leaving any room for error— or a misplaced step.

"Stupid me shaped corridor!" The man's voice was thick with a Germanic rumble. He clambered to his feet, brushing out his coattails as he looked around sheepishly. Alice wasn't sure who would even be around to witness such a fall he was clearly self-conscious about, but there had to be a chance of someone from the way he looked around to assure himself of no witnesses.

A bonging paused the man in his steps, a heavy sigh releasing from him. "Will this day never end?" He groaned marching forward. As he passed, Alice took note that he wore black gloves over his hands and his neck was adorned with a clock-faced necklace. "It clings to me like a pair of sweaty pantaloons," he continued his moaning, passing by the undetected Alice.

Alice crept from her hiding place to follow in his shadow. He marched forward assuredly toward a gate that cast an effervescent glow into the darkness. Following him quickly, Alice used the Stygian shadows to her advantage, creeping closer to investigate where the man had gone. Turning about the corner, she had to stifle a gasp with her hand at the sight ahead of her.

The sign above the gilded gates had read 'Underlandians Living', but Alice was taken more by the scenery than the sign. The innards of the room was an eternal sunrise, the large star hanging bright in the backdrop as thousands of silver pocket watches dangled from wispy clouds above, shining in the golden rays. Their ticking the cacophony of a thousand heartbeats.

 _Underlandians Living,_ Alice looked to the glowing label once again. _These must be the denizens of Underland who are still with us._ Except the Underlandians were measured by ticking clocks instead of feeble threads.

Alice continued to watch as the man traveled down the long golden pathway, searching the time pieces thoughtfully. "Who has ticked their last tock?" His baritone voice rang out into the infinitude. "Who has tocked their last tick?" He paused for a moment and Alice could hear his concentrated exhale, his head tilting as if searching for the quieted pocket watch. After a heartbeat he moved once more. "Ah…Brilliam Hinkle!"

The golden pocket watch descended down to the man's hand, falling into the carefully cupped gloved palm. The man quickly unhooked the time piece from its golden chain, shutting the cover with a definitive _click_. "Brilliam Hinkle," the man repeated. "Your time is up."

Alice wondered what the consequences of removing a time piece from this room could wrought, but she didn't care to wander to the idea that it meant that, indeed, some Underlandian's time among the living was completed. Her thoughts were not long lived, anyway, as her eyes widened with fright. The man had turned on his heels and began his short descent back to the darkness of the corridor, pocket watch in hand. Alice stumbled backwards, looking for a pocket of darkness to conceal herself in.

She watched from her new hiding place as the man crossed the small hallway to a wrought iron gate on the opposite side, flying open the door with a mournful groan. He continued his confident march into the depths of the grimly lit room, Alice following curiously a safe distance behind. She spared a moment before tucking herself behind one of the columns to look up at the sign this room bore. She paled as she read the hollow words.

_Underlandians Deceased._

Just as cautiously she stepped to the gate, wrapping her fingers about the cold metal as she continued to observe the man's strange ritual. He was moving through the alphabet, looking for the appropriate place to store _Hinkle_. When he passed by _Hightopp_ , Alice realized this would be a sure way to discover the truth about Tarrant's family without the Chronosphere— if she could perhaps sneak into the room when the man had left she could search through his ancestors to see if the pocket watches of his mother and father and sisters and brother and cousins and aunts and uncles were there. If so, she would have to bring him the bad news. But if it was just the stopped watches of Hightopps of long ago, then surely she would be able to continue in her quest to see what had happened to what he believed was his living family.

Alice chased her thoughts away as she craned to listen to the man who now held the time piece he was relocating in his hand tenderly. "Hinkle…I hope you were happy. I hope you used your time well." He cradled the clock lovingly, as one would cradle their child. "Goodnight." He bid the watch farewell with a tender kiss.

In Alice's desire to hear his blessing, she stumbled forward causing the gate to creak as she moved in accidentally. Her cheeks reddened as she realized she had given alarm to her whereabouts, attempting in vain to conceal herself in the shadows once more.

Her efforts had been too delayed and she saw him shift on his heeled feet, turning toward the gate with a thick raised eyebrow. His eyes darted around suspiciously, looking for the interloper.

"Who is there?" He demanded, causing Alice to jump. She tucked herself further behind one of the columns, shutting her eyes and praying that he would leave his investigation be, chalk it up to mischievous poltergeists or dimwitted servants. His footfalls continued in her direction.

"I saw you!" He cried out, as if the two were playing an innocent game of hide-and-seek. "How did you get in here? It is impossible! Come out, you little wriggling…worm." His accent made his 'w' akin to a 'v' sound and made him sound frightful. Alice knew she had indeed been caught, and thought it best to surrender to an infinite being rather than be corned in a chase.

Alice ducked her chin into her chest resolutely, letting out a sharp exhale before stepping into the gateway. Her head hung low in shame as she stood erect before the man. She noticed as he approached that his eyes were glowing an ethereal blue, bright and crystal clear. This was, indeed, no mere being.

"Ah, it's a girl," he said, all pretense of defense dropping as he shook his head.

Alice did not have the time to take the comment with anger, instead knowing she might have only precious seconds to make her request known, she began her prepared speech.

"Please sir," Alice's voice was light but commanding, akin to the tone she had taken with the board. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but if I could just have a moment of your time— "

"Time!" The man laughed, strolling past her with a hearty grin. She scrambled out of his way, nearly avoiding being clocked by his ornate shoulder pieces. Alice certainly found none of this interaction amusing and was growing annoyed that he was.

"Young lady," the man spoke softly, his back to her. Alice planted her feet, readying herself for any fight that could come. Instead, the man swiveled with a grand gesture, the proud look on his face giving way to his identity before he finished speaking, "I am Time."

He spread his arms, mechanical hands lowering a royal cloak covered with black fur and lined with purple silk on his outstretched limbs as he continued his introduction. "The Infinite, the Eternal, the Immortal, the Immeasurable," he glared down at her, a haughty glance in his eyes. Alice was fighting the urge to roll her eyes at such a pompous display; what was it with Underlandian leaders and their childish parades of hubris?

"Well…unless you have a clock." Time amended his final statement. "So being Time, I must give some of myself for you to have me."

 _Oh no,_ Alice thought, _not only is he vapid, but he's incompetent to boot._

"Are you following what I'm saying?" Time asked, his dark eyebrows crossing.

"Yes." Alice nodded her head warily; she had been to Underland before, riddles and double meanings were no less foreign to her than cups of tea and pocket watches.

"Oh," Time seemed a bit disappointed that she had not gotten lost in all of his elaborate carrying on. "Well, do you promise to be concise?"

Alice's heart skipped a beat— he was going to give her a chance to speak. "Well I most certainly— "

"Because if there is one thing I do not like," Time interrupted, holding forth a bejeweled right hand and making synchronized jabs toward her. Alice's irritation flared as she closed her mouth, eyebrows depressing. "It is people who are unable, unwilling, or…"

Alice watched impatiently as he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, fishing about for a moment before pulling forth a small moleskin book. "Or uncompelled to form short sentences."

 _Hmm, I wonder if you've had the pleasure of meeting yourself before_ , Alice thought darkly, but brushed the comment away, hoping it did not spill forth in her proposal.

"My friend is in mortal danger!" Alice began, hoping such an introduction would garner appropriate reaction and attention.

"Enough of your incessant jabbering!" Time leaned forward, anger flashing in his blue eyes. Alice dipped backwards, a flash of hurt crossing her features. "I have important work to do!" With that, he pulled an ornate scepter from his coat, turning on his heels violently.

"Please," Alice followed after him, not one to give up a campaign willingly. As he turned, she saw that the back of his head was not simply flesh and hair, but rather a spinning set of cogs and gears. It seemed Time himself was powered by clock pieces, an interesting development and one she found somewhat alarming.

"You haven't answered my question," Alice carried on, undeterred by this mechanical deity; she was Alice, after all, and she was stubborn to a fault.

He seemed to understand that she would persistent until the bitter end, about-facing to give her his attention once more. "One minute," was his short response.

She readied herself to carry on with her story, but he interrupted her once more, pointing to her hip with a frown. "Why do you carry that fallen soldier?" He asked. "In your pocket," he added when he saw her confused reaction. "Reveal him now."

Alice reached her hand into the folds of her skirt which hid a secret pocket for her to store treasured items. In China it had held folded maps and currency, at Hamish's she had tucked away proposal ideas. There was always one item that she lovingly tucked into her side every morning she got dressed. She pulled out her father's silenced pocket watch, displaying the item on her flattened hand. It was merely a time piece, not a solider. She didn't understand why Time seemed so concerned with it.

"He is broken, caput." Time's pale eyes looked back at her, a grimace crossing his pink lips.

Alice knew he was right, but despite its inability to work it was sentimental. She wasn't going to push it aside just because it didn't function for her. "It was my father's, I would never part with it." Alice shook her head in protest.

"Everyone parts with everything eventually, my dear," Time replied ominously.

Alice looked at him curiously, but he didn't stay to expand upon his comment. Instead, he climbed a short set of stairs before them, leading Alice into a second grand hall.

"Behold," Time commanded with awe, "The Magnificent Grand Clock of All Time." He gestured with his scepter to a giant clock face. Alice smiled as she found it strikingly similar to Big Ben; albeit, its glow was fiercer and more gold, it clearly was the father of all clock towers. Jumping blue bolts of electricity powered the cogs and gears that hummed around it, pushing its second hand forward.

Alice saw Time move at her side and she watched as he pulled open his cloak. On his chest piece sat an identical miniature version, ticking along with the Grand Clock before them. "He is me, and I am he," Time explained, a sharp look entering his eyes. "All that was or ever shall be." He leaned toward Alice with a proud grin. "I made up that poem."

Alice's eyebrow rose in mock congratulations. A sound of small voices drew her attention to a tiny door beneath the clock, where mechanical creatures were beginning to walk in straight formation out into the center of the grand hall. A human-esque looking being made entire out of metal, from bronze chest piece to tinny mustache, led the charge, a worried look on his bespectacled chrome face. The only thing about him that was not made of ingot was his verdant coattails which billowed around his alloy body a size too large, the sleeves covering his metal hands. The coattails were trimmed with gold thread, the buttons on its lapels brass.

"Now remember, look lively everyone," he commanded the small beings behind him.

"Ah, Wilkins!" Time called out with good natured familiarity. He approached the line of small creatures who were presenting themselves to the deity.

"Eyes forward, shoulders back," Wilkins continued giving direction to the metalkins.

"How is my in-w-incible machine?" Time asked, waving his scepter grandly. Alice followed behind, a mere observer to the exchange.

"Well, uh, it's— " Wilkins began.

"Silence!" Time demanded, startling Alice and cowing Wilkins. "You will speak when spoken to!" Time cried.

Alice looked at him with a disdainful frown. "He _was_ spoken to," she interrupted, anger at his ill treatment toward his subject.

"Nonsense!" Time waved away her protest. "The machine, Wilkins, how is it?"

Alice's frown turned into a glare of fury, she hoped her anger was palpable. Wilkins looked to Time first than to Alice, a look of hesitation and insecurity on his metal face. "Uhh…" he seemed unsure as if he should bother to answer, or if it would earn him another scolding.

In the midst of their leader's hesitation, one of the smaller creatures sauntered up to Alice. Its head was shaped akin to an oil can, its spout serving as a sort of nose. He brushed Alice's skirts with the spout-nose, garnering her attention.

"Hello," her gaze softened as she looked at the bouncing creature at her feet, its glowing button eyes widening in joy at the attention. "And who might you be?"

"These miniscule artisans are my Seconds," Time waved his scepter over the line of creatures, pointing to his chest with the bejeweled staff when indicating their ownership. The Second at her feet wobbled with pleasure.

"Curious," Alice mused, looking down at the overjoyed subject and then back to its Maker. "And I suppose every Second counts?" She asked whimsically.

"Count? I wish," Time leaned towards her, Alice's brows crossing in confusion. He lowered his voice as he confessed, "They are rather stupid,"

The Second at Alice's feet heard the insult, its joy shrinking as it cowered, letting out a small mechanical keen. Alice returned Time's comment with a hard glare, daring the deity to take back his words. Time rolled his eyes, bending down to pick the Second up tenderly in his hands.

"That was rude of me," he stood to his height, holding the Second about his oil can head. Its feet wobbled in the air as Time offered his apologies. "I'm sorry," he said, placing a solidary kiss on the curved forehead of the oil can head. Time then looked to Alice pointedly, before returning the Second to the ground before the two. The creature bounced on its heel, once again delighted that he was appreciated.

"I told you," Time said, his voice even lower, "Imbeciles."

Alice wanted to say something further to him, but he quickly swept past her, nearly hitting her about the face once more with his winged shoulder pieces. "Come on," he commanded as he continued down the corridors. Alice hurried to catch up to his long legged strides.

* * *

 

She followed the deity into a small room that appeared to be a cozy study. Knick-knacks made of metal cogs and gears lined the shelves, the wood paneled walls lined with lighted chrome sconces and ticking clock faces. A large black leather wing-backed chair stood in the middle of the room, the perfect size for the towering Time. Before it was placed a small tea table and a matching leather ottoman. The chair stood before a roaring fire, which swathed the room in a cozy yellow glow.

Alice watched as Time took his place in the colossal chair before the fire, settling in and ushering Alice to stand before him with the wave of a gloved hand. Alice planted her feet before him, folding her hands before her waist reverently.

"So, your question," Time waved his jeweled hand impatiently as he continued in his instructions for Alice. "Whatever it is, you have _exactly_ one minute."

Alice's chin rose in a false confidence as she screwed up her courage. She hoped she could speak concisely enough to fit the span of a short minute. Gathering her thoughts quickly, she began to explain her plight. "It's about the Hatter, Tarrant Hightopp," Alice heard Time grunt in recognition. "He's a great friend of mine and recently he's become convinced that his long deceased family is alive, and of course his family cannot _really_ be alive," she fought a swell of irritation as she watched Time yawn, ripping open his cloak to reveal the clock on his chest piece once again. She continued on undeterred. "Because, you see, the Jabberwocky killed his family on the Horunvendush Day and I killed the Jabberwocky on the Frabjous Day," her eyes widened as she realized that her speech cantered along at a rapid pace. A glance over at the man before her revealed his finger pushing the second hand along faster than it was deemed to go. Alice wanted to stop, but the words continued to pour forth at dizzying speeds. "And I'd like your permission, please, to borrow the Chronosphere— "

At the mention of the sought-after item, Time stopped his meddling look up at her with a hard glare.

"The Chronosphere?"

"That wasn't a minute!" Alice raged, upset with being interrupted once again.

"You want to borrow it," Time carried on, unconcerned with Alice's annoyance. "Loan it, _purloin_ it!"

Alice jumped at the accusation, but was resolute on what she wanted. "Yes," she replied simply.

Time nodded his head with mock agreement, standing up to approach her slowly, waving his hand in gyrating circles. He clearly appeared fed up with her attempts at persuasion.

"You ask," he looked to the ground, screwing up whatever patience he had left, "to disintegrate _history_." His voice was a low grumble. "The Chronosphere powers the Grand Clock."

"But I _need_ it," Alice insisted. She would return it back, certainly the Clock would keep ticking. What was important now was Tarrant. "Without it the Hatter may never get better and— "

"Wilkins!" Time cried, glowering at Alice with his shining blue eyes. "Wilkins," he called for his subject.

The small mechanical butler threw open the doors to the study, entering with sputtering steam erupting from a small vent at the back of his head. "You called, sir?" The butler placed his hands behind his back.

"Yes, Wilkins," Time moved his attention to the subject before him. "Please remove this…yellow haired kindergartner."

Alice felt her heart fall into her chest, knowing that indeed she was not going to receive a blessing from the deity. She inhaled deeply, trying to quiet her emotions under the swelling of her chest. Tucking her hands behind her back she dropped her gaze defeatedly.

"Immediately, sir," Wilkins saluted the Master.

"Thank you for your You, sir," Alice spoke over the servant with false curtesy.

Time nodded his head obligingly, before crossing his dark brows in confusion. "My what?" He turned his head to watch Alice as she strode stiffly toward the doorway.

"For your Time," Alice replied indignantly.

The harsh look that had crossed Time's mouth softened. He seemed to understand that her mission was of importance and he could read the wounded and worried look on her face. "Young lady," his voice was filled with stern compassion. "You cannot change the past," he shook his head, his eyebrow raising on his pale forehead. "But I dare say— you might learn something from it."

Exasperated with yet another ambiguous comment from the deity, Alice shot him a look of consternation, turning to leave his presence.

"The next generation," she heard him sigh as she left his presence.

"Come along you!" Wilkin's nasally voice called as he stumbled ahead of Alice.

He led her down the dark corridor back to the main hall, pointing her in the direction she had entered in. "Now, back the way you came, miss!" He commanded, one of his hands scolding her resolutely. "All the way to the end." He added with the stern nod of his head. " _Auf Wiedersehen_ ," his parting cry filled with admonishment.

Alice's chin rose as she continued forward with wounded pride, figuring the butler would not stop watching until she had indeed exited the way she had entered. _Oh Tarrant,_ she thought darkly. _I have failed you! How am I to rescue you now?_

The throwing open of doors behind Alice echoed through the hall. "WILKINS!" Time summoned the craftsman once again.

"Oh!" The nasally cry responded.

"She's here!" Time commanded.

"Coming sir!" The sounds of Wilkin's hurried shuffle signaled he was heading away from Alice, no longer watching her every move. Alice pivoted her head back to see if indeed he had left his post. A smile curled at the corner of her mouth as she realized he had left her alone.

What's more, an angry glowing red light illuminated the stained glass in distance; the opposite doorway shaped in the form of a heart grew brighter as doors were flown open. Alice felt her heart leap into her throat as she recognized the unmistakable silhouette in the distance.

 _Iracebeth_.

 _But that's impossible!_ Alice panicked. _She was banished to the Outlands. She was with Stayne! What has happened?_

"Ahh! Seconds out, Seconds out!" She heard the worried commands of Wilkins in the next room.

Alice carefully crept down the hallway, her hands floating at her sides as she searched for a place to conceal herself once more— this time not from the deity, but from the crimson monarch that was swiftly making her way down the corridor.

Wilkins led a small group of seconds to the spot right before Alice's hiding place, coming to a halt before an archway. His sudden stop sent several Seconds bumping into him with clanging _bangs_ , two of them fell to their feet, struggling to get back up once more.

"Get back!" Wilkins commanded with a harsh whisper, before bowing deeply to the woman stopped before him. "Your Highness!"

"YOUR MAJESTY!" Iracebeth's childish temper raged.

"Majesty," Wilkins corrected himself with a shaking voice. "My lord is expecting you in the parlor," he winced as he looked up at the bulbous headed figure. "Shall I announce you?" He pulled at his gilded neck piece anxiously.

"Idiot!" Iracebeth raged. "I'll announce myself," she raised a curled horn to her lips, blowing weakly. The horn produced a feeble trumpet. "TICK TOCK!" Iracebeth screamed, her pencil thin eyebrows raising on her forehead expectantly, her heels clapping on the marble floor loudly. "Where are you?"

 _She certainly doesn't need any help announcing her presence_ , Alice observed with a grimace.

"Tick Tock!" Iracebeth cried again. "Where are you?" Alice noticed that the Red Queen was being assisted by a human shaped plant creature, she was pieced together to look like a vegetation lady in waiting.

 _I suppose if she can't find friends, she must make them_ , Alice added, following the small procession as she slunk through the shadows.

Alice found that Time had yet to leave his study as Iracebeth threw open the doors to reveal a frazzled deity desperately checking that his breath smelled okay. The spoiled monarch pressed forward into the small room, her red lacquered nailed hand shot forward with a flat palm.

"Present!" She demanded with the waggle of her fingers.

"Of course," Time conceded. Alice noted that he had taken off his headpiece, the black hair that he had beneath was pulled into a tight bun at the top of his head. He turned away from Iracebeth, a much gentler silhouette now, as he searched his shelves for a gift to present to her.

"My darling," his voice was sickly sweet as he addressed the impatient queen. "May I say your head is looking w-ery, w-ery big today," his accent thickened as he continued to attempt to compliment the boiling queen before him.

She grunted unimpressed, waggling her expectant fingers once more. Time rolled his eyes, letting out a defeated sigh as his clear tries at being romantic were brushed away by her pampered behavior.

"I present you with a gift," he placed a small machine in her hand, "made entirely out of love. And a little bit of metal and wood, of course," Time added with an amused smile. "I know how you love the tiny things, no?" His face bore that of hopeful pride, eagerly awaiting for her to see the full capabilities of the creation he had made for her.

She raised her eyes disinterested, but wound the mechanical box all the same. Two small creatures graced the top of the singing machine which played the death march call; one was a king bent over a chopping block, a bucket just before him. The other character was an executioner, his hands containing a sharp axe. As Iracebeth cranked the machine, the axeman's arms raised above his head. When they had reached far enough behind him, they sprang forward with unbridled energy, sending the axe into the king's neck. The head of the monarch fell into the bucket before him with a dignified _plop_.

Time watched Iracebeth closely for a reaction of joy. She only replied with a grunt of indifference, chucking the finely crafted music box at Wilkins with an impassive toss. The butler caught it as it clanged against his brass head, holding the crafted item to his chest carefully.

"I shall treasure it forever," Iracebeth keened mockingly like a small child.

Time seemed pleased with the promise, a proud grin crossing his face. Iracebeth passed him without further thought, taking a seat on the leather cushion of his chair. She looked up at him miserably, her brown eyes shining, causing Time to tilt his head befuddled. Iracebeth then turned from him, stacking her arms and rest her face into the silk of her dress. She began to wail, large cries that seemed forced and insincere to Alice. Time seemed oblivious to the falsehood, however, as he came to hover over the queen worried.

Alice realized that this was the distraction she would need to…borrow…the Chronosphere. She quickly turned, leaving the scene behind her to begin to traverse the hall, retracing her steps to the Grand Clock.

The time piece was as magnificent and awe inspiring at second introduction and Alice slowed her steps, walking respectfully toward the tower. She carefully ducked into the door below the clock face, entering the small alcove the Seconds had appeared from.

As she continued toward the heart of the clock the glow of the blue electric bolts heightened. Passing through the tight tunnel, she found herself at the very center of the Grand Clock, gears spinning, cogs whirling, and three large pendulums keeping the heartbeat of existence swaying back and forth rhythmically in an ordered line. In the distance, suspended between small bolts of electricity, lay a small circular object.

 _The Chronosphere_ , Alice assumed.

Alice climbed over the filigree railing which lined the balcony overlooking the chasm of gears and cogs and bolts beneath. Swaying on the edge of the marble floor, she eyed the first pendulum before her. When it passed to the space in front of her Alice gave a flying leap, hugging the length of the pendulum tightly, her feet settling on the rounded weight below. With several more prayers and bated breaths, Alice traversed the next two pendulums much like a monkey swinging through the trees. She landed with an _oof_! and a clang on the centermost cog that bore the Chronosphere.

Quickly traversing to the center of the moving gear, she climbed up the small dais to the podium where the small orb hovered. It was encased in glowing blue-white light. Alice reached for it hesitantly, pausing only to consider for a moment that the next action might hurt akin to sticking her hand in a blazing fire. Screwing up her courage, she put forth her fingers, wrapping them about the metal object before her.

The Chronosphere slid into her hands easily, but not before sending a beam of blue lightening into the thick clouds overhead. The Grand Clock _bong_ -ed, a storm of electric bolts swarming about its mechanics.

Alice winced for a moment, hoping she didn't harm the clock _too_ badly.

Alice studied the orb in hand; it wasn't particularly special. An amalgamation of silver and gold spheres twined together, the faintest of script in a foreign tongue scrolled around its gold circumference.

"WILKINS!" Time's angered voice echoed the halls.

Alice heard the unmistakable steaming of gears, looking over with a gasp to the balcony she had left to travel to the inner gear. Seconds were scurrying down the back of the clock face, exiting from smaller doors to the left and right of the tunnel she had used to access the clock's heart. Shouting cries of " _tick tick_ " Alice watched with widened eyes as the Seconds began to scramble on top one another, linking legs into arms, heads into shoulders. The pieces were puzzling together, creating a large foe that was charging across the gears and cogs towards the blonde thief.

"Seconds into Minutes!" Alice breathed, turning quickly to flee in the opposite direction.

She paused before a quartet of winding gears, spinning triple the speed of the other mechanics in the clock face heart. With a cursory glance behind her to see the glowering red eyes of the Minutes fast encroaching, Alice tucked the Chronosphere into the pocket beside her father's pocket watch. Then, with an inhale, she jumped onto the first spinning gear. The run she performed was similar to the log roll competitions the merchants sometimes performed for fun in the bay. She ran along the side of the rolling mechanism, fighting desperately to maintain balance before leaping to the next. She continued in a similar fashion toward the third and finally the fourth before stepping onto a sturdy platform, a ladder behind her. She was glad for the solid ground, but turned with wide eyes once more to spy the Minutes running the gears and cogs of the clock with relative ease.

Alice began her descent down the ladder, the faint ticking of metal against metal ringing in the air behind her. To her disappointment, she turned her head to find more Minutes sweeping down from the clockwork above; she was corned on all sides. She let her hands loosely slid down the metal of the rail, her shoes sliding effortless over the alloy as if she were sliding down the ropes of a slick mast.

Alice hit the bottom harder than she expected, falling forward onto her belly. The Chronosphere leapt from her pocket, rolling in front of her as Alice tried desperately to grab for the small sphere. But Underland was far from being out of surprises— the small sphere that had rolled out of her pocket suddenly tripled in size, floating before her in the air. The same bolts of blue electricity that traveled the body of the clock surrounded the suspended orb, several of its rounded edges swept circular patterns around the main body, as if keeping the Chronosphere afloat. Alice looked at the object before her in pleasant disbelief.

"What's the matter with you?" she could hear Iracebeth's voice ringing in the distance. Time's grunts of pain could be heard below.

"The Chronosphere!" Time shouted, pointing to the object that Alice stood before.

"Alice!" Iracebeth whispered harshly.

Alice turned, her pleased grin falling as she realized she had been spotted by both Iracebeth and Time. The sound of clanking metal appeared behind her and she looked up with a gulp to see that the Minutes were quick on her heels.

Staggering forward, Alice began a frenzied sprint toward the Chronosphere.

"No! STOP HER!" Alice could hear the frantic command of Time.

She continued her sprint, leaping into the back of the enlarged sphere in which she found several levers and pulleys in a steerig system akin to the _Wonder_ 's, a gyrating Oraculum in the place of a compass.

The minutes hurried their pace, falling to the platform behind her with crashes and bangs. Alice looked frantically for a way to start what appeared to be a ship, her gaze wandering past several wheels and a large lever before her. Glancing up she spotted a handle connected to a pulley labeled "Pull Me".

She did so, fighting for balance as the Chronosphere ascended into the air, striding forward away from the platform. Most of the Minutes, save one, were too late in their grab for the machine and, inside it, the girl. One caught hold of a spinning curve, but was sent flying back into the gears and cogs, breaking back into Seconds as the whirling metal bands began to pick up speed.

"Stop her, you imbeciles!" Time cried. Alice could only imagine the alarm that graced his features when she had sent the Chronosphere sailing into the air. "Which idiot labeled that?" She could hear the frustration in Time's voice.

"You did, my lord," came Wilkin's hesitant answer.

"Thank you for admitting your mistake," Time replied tightly. Alice felt her eyes roll automatically, but her concentration on the conversation was pulled away as the Chronosphere bucked beneath her.

"How do I work this?" She pondered aloud, her hands going towards either a wheel or a lever, before deciding otherwise and changing directions. She gave the wheel to her right a try, spinning it quickly. The Chronosphere swiveled on its axis, too quickly for Alice to maintain her balance and her arms pinwheeled about her trying to remain upright. She had spun the Chronosphere inadvertently to face Time and Iracebeth who were eyeing her warily from the edge of the balcony. Alice felt her heart pound in her chest; if she was going to use this to save Tarrant she would need to do so now.

"Halt! Halt!" Time tried uselessly to stop her.

Alice looked to the lever which stood before her, grabbing hold of the handle in her fist and depressing the switch with the squeeze of her fingers. Tilting the lever forward, the Chronosphere shot toward the deity and the monarch, increasing its speed the further forward Alice pressed the lever. The distance between she and the two leaders before her was rapidly decreasing and Alice panicked as she realized she might instead hit the two of them and crash into the clock face before her. A faint whisper at the back of her mind suggested this might lead to a terrible outcome.

She was too late and too hysterical to stop the charging Chronosphere, so she instinctively threw her arms over her face. She heard Time, Wilkins, and Iracebeth give off gasps and shouts of fear as she careened toward them, no doubt their hands went up to shield their heads as well.

Before the metal orb hit the deity, monarch, and artisan like bowling pins, the inside of Alice's eyelids brightened as she was swallowed by mist and a bright flash of white. The sounds of the screaming monarchs before her ceased.

When she opened her eyes and lowered her hands she was once again amazed by what she saw.

She had crashed through a wave and had entered an eternal ocean swelling with pictures and words and smells of memories of before.

Alice had entered, with the help of the Chronosphere, the Oceans of Time.

She would do best to traverse it cautiously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is where the chronological similarities to my idea and the actual film cease. Alice will still visit a couple periods of time that are in the film, but in different orders and some will contain different purposes and may include fellow travelers.
> 
> Thank you to all who read and reviewed, favorited and liked this story so far. Please continue to do so and let me know what you think!
> 
> Fairfarren
> 
> Lydia


	4. Part IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts akin to the movie, but I play a little bit of rearrangement and in that lies a large conflict change from the movie and entire scene (and character age) shift.

Alice marveled as the Chronosphere continued through the crashing waves of the past. A moment of time flashed before her, revealing her recent incident with Humpty Dumpty, the egg struggling for balance as he rolled over the edge of the table.

 _Impossible_ , Alice thought awestruck. Pushing the lever forward she noticed that the Oraculum before her began to spin more rapidly. Slowing the Chronosphere, Alice read the words above small freeze frames of events carefully.

 _Faldifel, Kaledek, Limirck_ … _these are the days of the past._ Which meant that Horuvendush Day was, "Dead ahead," Alice said to herself, pushing the second lever to send the spherical ship over the crashing waves.

A familiar face in one of the bubbling flashbacks paused her in her journeys; the image of the Hatter on Rebek day, the day when he had discovered the paper hat he treasured while playing in the Tulgey Woods with Bayard and Mally. Steering her ship over to the swelling memory Alice frowned, a pang hit her heart as she watched her friend's demeanor change as he cradled the hat in his hand.

"Tarrant," Alice knew it was a memory and he would not be able to hear her, but she spoke all the same. "Don't worry, Tarrant, I'll save you and your family." She vowed, resolve renewing in her heart as she was reminded of who she was risking danger for.

Accelerating the Chronosphere, Alice directed the ship to duck below the wave and continue forward (or perhaps was it backward?) into the past. Her only dilemma being that time did not work the same way in Underland as it did in her world. Eight years had passed for her in her time of being a child and her nineteenth year, but when she had fallen down the rabbit hole, it appeared time had moved more slowly. Maybe half the time had passed. But she had spent several days and nights in Underland only to find that when she climbed out of the rabbit hole that it had been maybe three quarters of an hour. There was no telling, then, whether Horuvendush Day was twenty years in the past or a mere eight. She would need to rely on the Oraculum as her compass.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Castle of Eternity, Time stood with Iracebeth and Wilkins on the balcony. The three had recovered from the startle Alice had given them by racing the Chronosphere toward the trio, but she had disappeared into the Oceans of Time before reaching them.

Iracebeth stood at his side, having remained quiet since the little kindergartener had disappeared. "Alice?" She finally spoke, her voice tight, a low warning. " _The_ Alice," she turned her head, her thin eyebrows arching as her glance turned into a glare. "Slayer of my Jabber-baby-wocky?"

Time realized now that he should have recognized the girl before. In his defense he hadn't asked her name, hadn't cared really, much more important things were at hand such as ruling all of Time and Eternity, but perhaps he should have been suspicious of a blonde haired interloper who had made such precocious requests. He cowed as Iracebeth stepped towards him, her anger just alighting.

"The reason I have been banished from my kingdom?"

Ah yes, the story he had heard too many times for his liking. So it was her, maybe he should have been more conscientious as to who crawled into his castle. "That Alice?" He tried to quell her fury by suggesting that, indeed, he did not know it had been _that_ Alice.

"Idiot!" Iracebeth screamed inches from his face. Time winced, both from the volume of the scolding and from the spittle flying from her mouth. Iracebeth turned from him as if commanding the entire castle, "I WANT HER HEAD!" She stormed off, her heels clacking on the marble.

As endearing as Iracebeth could be, she was overwhelmingly childish to a fault. Time contemplated going after her, trying to stop her, but as he turned to move a jolt came from his neck, a burning sensation radiating from his heart. He ripped open his cloak to see that the time piece on his chest was beginning to crack, several panels losing all of their glass.

"Are you alright, sir?" Wilkins, his ever faithfully and entirely irritating companion hurried to his side, clutching metal hands. His eyebrows crossing with worry.

No, no, Time was very much _not_ alright. And neither was the Grand Clock. Meaning the entirety of Underland was also doomed.

"It has begun," Time heaved, his heart's burning made his breathing labored. He tried to ignore the pain, looking over the balcony to the dais where the Chronosphere once floated. The glowing electricity of the gear below was beginning to extinguish; the Grand Clock was slowly losing power. "Without the Chronosphere the Grand Clock will break down," Time explained to his butler, "Time myself will stop, and all in Underland will perish!"

"Did you say— PERISH?" Wilkin's steamed.

 _Now was not the moment to lose calm_ , Time thought morosely. He loathed to say it, but he would need to leave Wilkins at the helm of the castle while he would go off to get that yellow haired nuisance. "Wilkins, you must keep the Grand Clock ticking." Time charged his servant.

"Me?" Wilkin's balked, mechanical eyes widening as he was given the task of keeping Underland running. "I said that out-loud, didn't I?" He mused, the back of his head steaming in embarrassment. "I mean, of course, sir."

Time knew he could count on the Second to perform as good a job as he, though he would never say the sentiment aloud. He grinned darkly as Wilkins saluted him. When he had secured the Second's agreement, he turned back to the heart of the Grand Clock, detailing his own plan.

"And I? I must find the kindergartener." The word left a bad taste in his mouth; he would be as irate with Alice as Iracebeth had been when he caught hold of her.

But this was much more than a dispute over a kingdom. This was upsetting the balance of an entire universe for one man.

In his heart, Time hoped that this Tarrant Hightopp was worth it.

* * *

Elsewhere, Mirana and the small group of tightly knit friends were ascending the hill to the Hatter's house. He had not been seen or heard from for days and the White Queen couldn't shake the notion that something was dreadfully wrong in there. Especially after Alice said Tarrant had declined in health since her visit. Mirana had persuaded the friends that it would be best to pay their dear Mad Hatter a visit. They hesitantly agreed if she would go with them. Bravely she led the charge, her stomach churning at the thought of what she might find.

The sun was setting between the mountains beyond, a picturesque sky boasted soft pinks and oranges and lilacs dancing among the clouds as the rays were quieting themselves for sleep. The house before them was swathed in soft yellows and blush pinks, adding to the breathtaking beauty of the end of the day.

As the small group climbed, a loud crash filled the sky and the earth began to shake. Looking up all watched as the sun quickly set, darkening the night sky where clouds whizzed overhead. The stars were whirling around them, flying impossibly fast through the night air.

"What's…what's happening?" McTwisp panicked, pulling his pocket watch from his jacket. The hands on the face were spinning around the clock, minutes and hours reduced to seconds.

"She must have the Chronosphere," Bayard noted as he looked down at the time piece in the rabbit's hand.

The sky settled into a beautiful morning sunrise, the night over in a mere heartbeat. The rays of the morning sun beat down on the group; Mirana inclined her head toward the sky, bringing her hands together before her body.

She closed her eyes, sending her invocations to the girl who was caught in the imponderable plan. "Take care, dear Alice," Mirana balled her hands, releasing an imaginary substance toward the sky. "All our hopes fly with you."

* * *

Alice continued her trek through the waters, frantically looking for the date that had changed everything. The waves were crashing with impossible force, their crest peaking too quickly for Alice to watch the glimpses of memory; she was left entirely reliant on the Oraculum compass before her.

The days were spinning just as swiftly, but her hand was at the ready when she saw the Jabberwocky come into sights. As soon as the creature came into view on the Oraculum, Alice pulled the lever back stopping the Chronosphere entirely.

"Horuvendush Day!" She exclaimed, sighting the wave ahead that was lit with roaring red fire and the shadow of a horrible creature. Alice pushed the ship forward, making great speed toward the memory.

When she was mere inches from entering the wave a bright light caught Alice off guard, a second ship smashing into the side of the Chronosphere, catapulting Alice away from the intended date and back into the Ocean of Time. Alice let out a blood curdling scream as she fought for control over the careening Chronosphere.

The days were flying rapidly as Alice took hold of the wheel in one hand and a lever in the other, slowing the rocking sphere and gaining control once again. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to estimate how off course she had been pushed.

"Aha!" A cry rang out behind her and Alice turned with a gasp to see that Time was on her heels. He had emerged from a wave riding a hand pump cart, much like the ones Alice had seen used on the expanding railways back in England.

"You!" He cried, pumping his small vessel furiously in order to catch up to Alice who looked on, too shocked by the sight of Time to react. "Give me back what is mine! Give it back…or there will be consequences!"

Shaking her head, Alice depressed the lever, shooting the Chronosphere forward and toward a rippling wave.

"Come back!" Time commanded.

Alice continued to ignore him.

She flew the ship under the crest of the wave, creating a small mist around her as the golden circumference band skirted the edge of the water. Time followed her under the crest, singing a jolly song of triumph as he continued to gain on her.

"You cannot win in a race against Time," he chuckled to himself. "I am inevitable!"

Alice raced forward all the same, undeterred by his threats. She leaned forward, putting her whole weight into depressing the lever, squinting her eyes to see into the bright light of the past which illuminated the water, the glare making it near impossible to see through the wave tunnel.

Time was quickly at her side, smiling villainously as he caught up to her spinning sphere. Alice let out a gasp of dismay and surprise when she spotted him, turning her head with determination to the horizon once more. A proud snicker from Time filled her ears before he slammed his cart into her, sending her Chronosphere bouncing toward the wave. She quickly turned the wheel, hoping to avoid shooting into the water and instead sharply changed the trajectory of the Chronosphere. She was flying out of control toward the memories before her. Hearing the wave crashing behind and a cry of alarm from Time, she knew that he had been knocked off her trail for a moment. She would be able to continue her quest for the past unhindered.

Once she finally landed.

Alice shut her eyes, fighting vomit as the sphere spun her at incomprehensible speeds. The Oraculum dinging as it spun through past days and events. It finally settled on one day, _Fell Day_ , as Alice went headlong into the wave.

She was sent screaming through the air, only to crash into a pile of snow, shivering as the cold around her quickly seeped through her, once again, useless silks. She had been bucked from the Chronosphere, which had shrunk back to its original size, sitting atop the snow glittering prettily. Alice plucked it up, cradling the cold metal in the palm of her hand before tucking it the sphere into her pocket.

Alice shuddered as a cold wind picked up and she wrapped her arms about her body to try to keep herself warm. Looking down she found to her dismay that her costume had ripped, the pleating along her waist had ripped to her chest, revealing the bright crimson silk beneath the orchid purple. She noticed as she felt the tears that her sleeves were also ripped, the bell cuffs opening wider than had been originally intended. Sighing, but recognizing there was little she could do in the way of saving the shirt, she pressed on, sighting Witzend in the distance.

As she walked along the snowy path, the white powder crunching beneath her feet, she heard the bickering of small child voices ahead. Ducking behind a tree she caught sight of two familiar faces gathered around a small snowman.

Tweedles Dee and Dum were decorating the white creature with sticks and rocks, even placing an umbrella in the mix. She watched in amusement as Dee tried to place the snowman's likeness.

"He weally weminds me of someone," he mused, scratching his small chin. "I can't place who…"

"He looks a little bit like you bwother," Dum responded, his voice just a hair lower than his twin's.

Along the path bounded a young Bayard, Alice smiling as his likeness reminded him of several of his pups. He was chasing a small Chess, the kitten floating along clumsily through the air. Behind the rambunctious animals trumped a small red-headed boy, his cheeks pinked in the cold. He wore a handsome forest green velvet jacket, maroon trousers covered his legs. A messenger bag was slung across his shoulder which he clung to with his right hand and a handsome felt top hat graced his curly locks. All seemed to be on their way to Witzend. Alice grinned as she basked in the sight of her young friends, fighting the urge to hurry along on her way.

This clearly was not the Horuvendush Day, but perhaps she could find the Hightopps, if they were here, to warn them of the dangers that were to come. If she told them to be wary then they could avoid the tragedy all together or in the very least prepare themselves for the onslaught of the Red Queen.

Cheered on by her brilliant idea Alice set off on the snow stamped path to Witzend, passing dangerously close to her friends. None would recognize her, so she figured it wouldn't hurt to catch a closer glimpse.

"Nonsense!" Dee's voice echoed in the still winter air, Alice watching as he received a prodding from a wooden spoon in the hands of Dum. The spoon had once served as one of the snow-Tweedles' arms. "He's hideous," the boy grabbed hold of the umbrella serving as the other arm, twirling the now-weapon fancily, challenging his brother to a fight. "Looks more like you!"

Dum was all too happy to oblige. The two began to beat themselves with their new weapons, letting out short cries of astonishment and protest as they batted one another around. Alice ducked behind a tree to watch, not wanting to incite attention by standing on the road and gawking.

"Hey Tarrant! Tarrant!" Alice's head whirled as she caught sight of the owner of the name. The red headed boy bent over to watch the Cheshire cat who so eagerly called his name. Alice's eyes widened.

 _Of course, who else would this red headed boy be_? she thought wildly, her cheeks blushing at seeing Tarrant at such a young age. Not that there was anything wrong with it. After all, he had met her when she was this young and impressionable. Shushing her reeling thoughts Alice strained to hear the conversation, wondering what her dear friend was like in _his_ youth.

Tarrant watched as his small kitten friend spun in circles, flexing his paws as he readied himself to show off a new trick. "Now you see me," Chess' small voice proclaimed as he begun to spin, "Wait a moment…wait a moment!" He promised as he began to vanish, all that remained was his flicking tail. Tarrant seemed semi-impressed with the trick, the Tweedles were entirely confused by the cat's almost total invisibility.

"Where'd the cat go?" They exclaimed in their typical unison.

Only Bayard yipped as he intently watched the flicking tail of the feline. Jumping up he bit the tail playfully, inciting Chess back to the visible world, the cat grabbing his tail and patting it soothingly.

"Gotcha!" The hound exclaimed with a triumphant wag of his tail.

No longer entertained the Tweedles turned on each other, brandishing household weapons again, swinging them with cries of "Have at you!". It wasn't long until they swang too hard and the items cracked in half, leaving too very unhappy boys crying in the snow. Alice sighed at their predictable spat, hearing the chiming of the clock in the village and being reminded of her task.

Ducking from behind the tree she continued on the path with her head bowed, her hands sliding up and down her arms trying to warm the clammy skin.

"Hello!" A boy's voice called to her. Alice winced, turning to see young Tarrant approaching her with a wide smile on his chapped red lips. "You have a very nice head!" He exclaimed in total sincerity.

Alice knew that any regular child giving a compliment such as that might be seen as peculiar, but coming from a Hightopp she knew it to be a flattering. "Thank you," she answered, a smile gracing her face as she looked down at the boy.

"A nice head deserves a nice hat," Tarrant began, Alice brimming with amusement at his naïve salesman like approach. "That's what my father always says. He makes the best hats in Witzend!" His large green eyes lit up with pride as he watched her face. "Shall I get him to make you one?"

Alice thought about declining the offer before realizing that such a proposal was exactly what she needed. Young Tarrant asking his father meant that she would be able to talk to the Hightopps. She could easily deliver her message of warning and he'd have to listen if she was paying for a hat. Alice patted her pockets at the thought, realizing she only had a few pence on her, not sure if such currency could be used in Underland.

"I'm afraid I don't have any money," Alice wilted, but young Tarrant reached forward and took his hand in hers.

"He'll offer you credit; Father also believes that a good head should always have a magnificent hat. Such a head like yours goes to shame being bare."

Alice wrapped her fingers about his hand, shuddering at how warm it was compared to hers. He offered her a sympathetic smile, "We also have a fire in our workshop, so you'd be able to get warm."

Offering him a knowing smile Alice nodded her head in agreement. "Very well then…what did you say tour name was?" She feigned ignorance, not wanting to sound impolite by hinting she had been eavesdropping.

"Tarrant! Tarrant Hightopp!" He replied, a proud swell in his breast. "Shall I escort you to my Father's shop, then?" He dropped her hand and tilted his small elbow toward her. Alice smiled sweetly.

"It would be an honor, Mister Hightopp," she mused, wrapping her arm about his smaller one. Snow crunching under his merry gait, Tarrant led Alice down the lane and though the streets of Witzend.

Alice slipped a hand into her pocket to be sure she still had the Chronosphere on hand.

She noticed the streets were bustling with people as Tarrant led her down through the main square, her head turning as she further noted that the occupants weren't dressed in simple clothes but donned their courtly attire.

"What is with all the festivities?" Alice mused, looking around her at the rainbow of colors.

"Aren't you from around here?" Tarrant tilted his head up at her, his ginger brows twisting. She noticed he had a splay of freckles across his small nose.

"I'm afraid not," Alice answered. "I'm from…Umbridge." Alice figured the lie had worked once before.

Tarrant narrowed his green eyes as he looked up at her, a wry grin crossing his lips. Her heart beat as she took in his skeptical look, but just as quickly as he gazed at her suspiciously did he shrug his shoulders, watching the path before them again. "Never heard of it," he answered. "Anyway, it's Princess Iracebeth's debutante ball."

"Oh?" Alice looked toward the castle in the distance that was decorated in the finest of purples and crimsons. "How old is she now?"

"You're really not from around here," Tarrant answered, pulling her along as she paused to watch the castle in the distance. "She turned sixteen just last month. Witzend has been preparing for this stupid ball all year."

"Stupid ball?" Alice asked with a slight wrinkle of her nose, teasing him lightly.

"It's so she can meet some handsome prince and get married and all that," Tarrant answered her, rolling his large eyes.

"Doesn't Iracebeth have a sister?" Alice asked.

"I thought you didn't know anything about here," Tarrant mused, but carried on nonetheless. "Yes, her name is Mirana. She's only eleven, though."

"You seem like you're about her age," Alice offered.

"I'm ten," Tarrant answered.

"Well, perhaps you'll find her sister rather interesting when she has her debutante ball?"

"Yuck!" Tarrant made a face. "Don't get me wrong, Mirana is nice and all, but princesses are so _boring_ ," he rolled his eyes and Alice had to lift her hand to her mouth to hide her grin. "They have to follow rules and be prim and proper and do everything just right. It's hard enough doing what my father says and it's incredibly dull."

"And perhaps you'll meet a girl whose fallen down a rabbit hole several times," Alice offered instead.

"That sounds like a much more interesting type of person; after all, it isn't just regular people that fall down holes. It's the ones who have gone 'round the bend. Entirely bonkers!" He stopped suddenly a shop looming before the two of them; Alice slipped as she tried to avoid bumping into him.

"And you know what they say about those people," Alice muttered.

"All the best people are," Tarrant responded, having heard her. He pulled her up a few steps, giving her no time to respond as he pulled her through a teal colored door. A small bell chimed as they entered.

A man with flaming red hair stood at a table, his hands around the crown of a hat that he was gently applying steam to, his practiced fingers slowly bending the material as it softened. A passively amused grin crossed his face as he watched his son drag Alice through the door; she offered who she assumed to be Mr. Hightopp a smile.

He turned to the two and she noticed he wore a sensible brown suit with a white dress shirt beneath, a bland bowtie tucked in the collar. Aside from the red hair there was little commonality between the father and the son.

"Father look!" Tarrant exclaimed proudly. "A customer with a lovely head right here!"

Mr. Hightopp did not say a word, holding up a finger to his son to indicate it would be just a moment. Tarrant sighed, his countenance falling as he shrank at Alice's side. Alice was a bit disappointed that Mr. Hightopp wasn't more enthralled by his son trying to expand the family business, but remembered that her Tarrant had told her that he was a rather serious sort. The room fell into awkward silence as Mr. Hightopp placed the hat already in his hand down on the shop desk, turning in his own time to face his son and Alice.

In the meantime, Tarrant turned to look up at her with wide green eyes, trying his best to continue the family business. "What is the hat of your heart's desire, madam?" He mused, his eyes searching the sky as he began to invent suggestion. "Something…feathery?" He pulled a miniature squawking bird from his coat sleeve, Alice's smile spreading wide in amusement and amazement. He was not done with his tricks however, as he reached into his coat with his other hand while asking, "Something buttony?" Pulling out buttons of varying sizes and colors dangling from strings. Alice laughed at his endearing show-off-ness.

Mr. Hightopp stepped forward interrupting his son's fanciful show. Sliding measuring tape that he kept around his neck into his hands, he finally acknowledged Alice. "Good afternoon, Miss," his voice was even and calm, a far cry from the lilting lisping voice of the Tarrant she knew.

"Good afternoon, sir," she answered back, folding her hands before her waist. She watched as Tarrant quickly stepped out of the way so that his father could speak to her.

"The function of a hat," Mr. Hightopp began, and Alice realized this lesson was more for Tarrant than she. She bowed her head forward so that the older milliner could place the measuring tape about her crown. "Is to follow the proper dictum of society. Not to be fun," he pulled the tape from Alice's head, satisfied with his measurement and then looked down to his son pointedly.

Alice listened quietly, wondering how on earth the mad man she had come to grow so fond of came from such a stern man.

"I have something fun," Tarrant answered, reaching into his shirt pocket and pulling forth a small item. Alice leaned over him to see what he had produced, a gasp emanating from her lips.

In his hands young Tarrant held the small blue hat with the same button and the same feather. She watched as he proudly presented it to his father.

Mr. Hightopp took the small hat from his son's hands, squinting his entire face to examine the small object. "What is it?" He turned the small creation over and over in his hands.

Tarrant wilted once more, his eager smile melting as he realized his father didn't recognize what he had most likely worked so hard on. "It's a hat!"

"Oh Tarrant," his father's voice was filled with weariness as his fingers pulled at the blue felt. "You've got in on backwards!" His large fingers began to pull it roughly, much to his son's dismay.

"Stop, you'll ruin it!" Tarrant's young voice was filled with tears and anguish as he stepped toward his father to try to grab the creation back. Alice watched on with sadness, feeling awkward and unable to say anything to intervene.

The tearing of paper and felt filled the room as Mr. Hightopp pulled the paper too hard, ripping the top. "Oh dear!" He cried, looking between the two pieces that lay in his hand. Alice gasped once more, her heart shattering as she watched the father carelessly toss the ruined gift aside. "Oh well, tomorrow I'll show you precisely how to make a proper hat!" He tossed the ruined hat into the trash bin right before his son's welling eyes.

Alice watched as he patted the boy on the shoulder before abruptly turning back to his work. Alice stood stock still, glancing out of the corner of her eye as she watched Tarrant's face fall, his mouth wrenching as his large green eyes filled with tears. Compassion filled her heart and she was going to reach out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but the opening of the door behind them startled the woman. Tarrant ran through the small workshop and straight to the stairs across the room, climbing them in twos as his soft sobs could be heard in his wake.

"Tarrant?" A lilting accented voice asked as the door opened. Alice turned to see a woman with flying red hair enter, her body was wrapped in an emerald green shawl. A basket handle was draped over her arm and Alice noticed it was filled with baked goods as she set it on the counter.

"You're too hard on him, Zanik," the woman scolded what Alice assumed was this woman's husband.

 _This is Tarrant's mother_ , she realized, her own green eyes widening as she took in the sight of the older woman before her.

"Hatting is a serious business," Zanik turned away from his work to address his wife, his voice filled with an oddly stoic passion. His wife seemed less pleased as she pulled her shawl from her shoulders, throwing them down on the table beside her basket, her gloves quickly following. "I can't have his frivolous ideas keep him from his true potential."

 _If only you knew_ , Alice wanted to shout that he was wrong, that Tarrant would be the best hatter there was, but instead she kept quiet, allowing the domestic to continue before her as she watched on stiffly.

"Now," he addressed Alice before his wife laid into him. The red headed woman turned, her green eyes widening in embarrassment as she beheld the customer she had walked on by, distracted by her distraught child. "Yes," Zanik hummed, taking a fine ladies' top hat in hands. "Yes, I think this hat will suit you perfectly,"

His wife quickly skirted the room, not wanting to involve herself in her husband's business. Alice wished she would stay, hoping that perhaps she would be receptive to what news Alice was going to deliver.

"Thank you ever so much, Mr. Hightopp," Alice ducked in a half bow. "But I'm afraid that I've come for a different purpose?"

"Oh?" The man asked.

The wife returned from the next room, a quizzical look on her sharper features.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," Alice began, chewing her lip nervously.

"Does it have to do with cousin James?" The wife began, approaching Alice with wide eyes. "I always told him he should avoid the Outlands, one never knows what creatures are lurking out there, but he never does listen!"

"Tyva, please!" Zanik turned on his wife, a flash of annoyance crossing his phlegmatic features.

Tyva pressed closer, noticing the pinkness of Alice's flushed cheeks and bare hands. "Oh dear, have you been out in the cold in that silk costume? You must be freezing!"

Tyva stood before Alice and the younger woman was finally able to get a good look at Mrs. Hightopp. Her wild red curls were half tied back with a black lace polka dotted ribbon, but most of had fallen free over the course of the day, framing her long pale face like a mane. She a plain white undergown with a familiar tartan patterned overgown tucked over top and tied about her waist. A wide smile crossed her rosy cheeks as she ushered Alice deeper into her home.

"You must have a cup of tea…I'm sorry I didn't hear your name?" Tyva grabbed her about the arm, pulling her into the house.

"Alice," Alice answered, a patient grin crossing her face.

"Please, come in,"

Alice's mind harkened back to the crashing of the Castle of Eternity, her fingers brushing over the sphere in her pocket. "I'm afraid I can't stay long."

"Are you heading off to the young princess' ball?" The mother smiled warmly.

"You could say that," Alice conceded. Zanik had stepped away from his wife's sympathy, returning to the hat he had been interrupted from when Tarrant brought Alice into the house.

"Zanik, you're being rude!" Tyva scolded.

"I'm fast at work; you know that Elspeth is going to want to go to the ball this evening, which means you will be out late which means I will need to keep my eye on Tarrant and Rhys while you take Elspeth and Siobhan." The man's voice was lined with irritation.

"Such may be the case," Tyva answered her husband, rolling her eyes. "But I don't want to see Tare and Rhys down here hatting. And you know Tare will be honest with me," she pointed a finger at her husband in warning.

Alice smiled at the lilt in Tyva's voicing understanding that _indeed_ Tarrant was Tyva's soon.

"I'm trying to teach my sons the family trade," Zanik replied with dispassionate emphasis.

"And you can do that every other day. Take them out to throw snowballs at one another, build a fort, go and buy them some sweets!" Tyva threw her hands in the air as she turned to Alice with an apologetic grin. "I hate to keep you from your journey, miss. I know you said you had news?"

"A cup of tea might be useful," Alice nodded her head, not sure of how to break the news so suddenly.

"Of course!" Tyva grinned, Zanik sighing in the background. "Come, I'll put the kettle on. I have some of the finest china and I never get much use from it."

Alice followed the woman as she passed her husband, she chatting gaily while her spouse ignored. Alice assumed this was regular business in the house. She nodded to Zanik as she passed his work bench.

"Good luck to you, my wife is a mad woman," Zanik whispered. "Especially when she's not had company in several."

Alice nodded her head, her spirits perking at the warning. At least she knew now where Tarrant came from.

A final glance back before being dragged into the next room made Alice's heart skip.

Thinking that all had their back turned, Zanik reached down into the trash to retrieve the ruined paper hat, admiring the crude handiwork more closely. With an impressed nod of his head, Zanik's thumb stroked the feather before he tucked the paper hat into his pocket.

Alice's eyes widened. _He'd kept the hat_. Alice watched with wide eyes. _He had kept the hat because he was proud of his son_.

She was about to say something, but Tyva yanking her into the kitchen stopped her with frozen words on her tongue.

* * *

"And so I told Mrs. Stainbottom that she could just hurry along with those scones, as I had a family to celebrate with this evening," Tyva chatted on as she poured Alice a stiff cup of tea. The blonde had not been able to get a word in edgewise with all the woman's chatting. "I'm sorry, m'dear, I get to talking and I'm just a ball of useless nonsense." She waved her hand as she took a seat across from Alice.

Alice glanced around the kitchen with a smile on her face, finding comfort in the organized chaos. Pots and pans lined walls, hung on pegs and nails. Ingredients were tossed about the counter, mismatched tea items peered out from behind see through cabinets. The room was filled with socks that were being darned, paintings that had been sketched by young artists, and several plates of cookies. "I hope you don't mind the mess," Tyva's cheeks pinked as she looked down to the worn Persian rug beneath their feet.

"Not at all," Alice shook her head. "It's…it's nice. It reminds me of someone I know who is very ill."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Tyva responded with genuine sincerity, her hand reaching out to caress Alice's gently.

"It's why I've come here today," Alice cleared her throat nervously. "You see…I'm from a different time."

Tyva cocked her head, her green eyes widening as she looked at the visitor curiously. Alice's gaze went to the piping hot tea before her, her fingers dancing about the lip. "I come from the future, where I know your son…Tarrant."

Tyva nodded her head, not stopping Alice, though her mouth was hanging slightly agape.

"And…well…in this future you don't know Tarrant because…well, you're dead." Alice flushed at her uncouthness.

"I see," Tyva nodded her head.

"And I came here because the reason your dead is because Iracebeth is going to go horribly mad and she's going to unleash a Jabberwocky on Mirana and it'll be in the midst of your family's village and a lot of people are going to be slain by the Jabberwocky and that means all of you. Only Tarrant will survive…and…well…he'll end up helping me one day as I return to Underland to slay the Jabberwocky. Except I won't remember Underland and he'll be the most patient with me, even risking his freedom and safety for me, and I will take back the crown for Mirana and Iracebeth will be banished and I'll go back home to England…to above…but I'll be brought back through a looking glass because your son will be sick because he'll think you are all alive." The words fell quickly from Alice's mouth, her eyes watching the steam from her tea curl. "And so…I came to warn you of the Frabjous Day, in the hopes that maybe you'll know about it and you'll be able to…live."

She looked up to Tyva who was listening in rapt silence. Her green eyes were wide and her cheeks were pallid, her pink mouth slightly agape. Alice winced as the lady watched her intently.

"You're mad, aren't you?" Tyva asked after a long pause.

"Bonkers, I'm afraid." Alice answered with a smile.

Zanik entered the kitchen and saw the look on his wife's face. "Whatever is it, Tyva? Bad news?"

"Alice here says she's from the future and insists that we are all to be slain on the Frabjous Day," Tyva explained to her husband.

"Is this true?" Zanik's brilliant blue eyes widened.

Alice ducked, "It's fewer words than is apt to explain, but in a nutshell, yes."

"Get out." Zanik's placid voice was filled with rage.

"Zanik!" Tyva scolded. The patriarch grabbed Alice about the arm tightly, pulling her roughly from the chair.

"I think your time here, Miss, has been long overspent," Zanik pulled her from the kitchen and through his workshop.

"Zanik!" Tyva hurried after the pair. "You cannot banish a fhàidh," she insisted.

"Oh no!" Zanik addressed his wife while pushing Alice towards the door. Tarrant and another boy who looked much like him only several years older were descending the stairs to investigate the ruckus. "There are too many fanciful stories in this house already! No wonder our children are obsessed with fleeting fancies."

Alice twisted under the grasp, her hands pushing against Zanik's. When the man had reached the door, he flew it open, depositing Alice onto the snow. "Good day, Miss." He nodded curtly before slamming the door in her face.

"Wait!" Alice stood, rushing to begin pounding on the door. "Wait, please! Mr. Hightopp! It's the Frabjous Day! You don't understand!"

She saw the interested faces of Tarrant and whom she assumed must be Rhys in the window next to the door before Zanik's hands pulled them away, shutting the curtains with gusto. He glared at her before doing so.

"Please!" Alice tried once more before abandoning the idea. There was no way he would listen to her ravings and she had already told Tyva who might listen.

Turning from the house dejectedly Alice decided it might be interesting to investigate Iracebeth's coming out ball while she was in this period of time. She began her long hike up the roads of Witzend to the castle just beyond, wishing that she had been able to drink some of the warm tea Tyva had made for her.

The ball was just beginning as Alice arrived, courtiers and well-dressed townsfolk lined the halls as they all waited for the princess.

Alice entered the grand foyer where the entering attendees were forming a semi-circle around the landing of an ornate set of stairs. The stairs descended from a second landing that married two spiraling staircases together, the next landing was the balcony that led to what Alice assumed was the palace occupant's private quarters. Pushing her way through the crowd Alice stood in the swell of the circle opposite the main landing.

Standing to the right of the stairs, just to the side of the bannister, was a regal looking woman. She had gorgeous golden hair that was plaited and wrapped in a pearl hairpiece, a twinkling silver crown decorated with diamonds and turquoise sat upon her head. Her warm long face was decorated with a kind smile and wide brown eyes. She was wearing a golden matron's gown, the high collar framing the back of her head prettily. A large pearl cross necklace graced her thin neck and Alice caught sight of a pretty stone sitting upon her right ring finger.

 _This must be the Queen_ , Alice quickly looked to the girl at her side. Mirana was a rather scrawny creature, her long thin arms cross before her flat chest. She donned a royal ball gown in the lightest shade of purple possible. Her lips were their usual hue, stained a deep purple, her dark eyes watching the room with disinterest. A long strand of pearls was looped twice about her neck, but still hung to just above the skirt-line of her waist. Her dark eyebrows rose in disinterest as she studied the room in obvious boredom, one finger twisting in her spiraling white hair. Her mother had a hand on her shoulder, beaming up the staircase proudly.

A rabbit appeared at the top of the stairs, looking oddly like McTwisp, but Alice knew it was not him, blowing a trumpet which quieted the entire room. Alice stumbled forward as the crowd surged behind her, the last minute occupants trying to squeeze into the room to watch the ceremony.

The rabbit scampered down the stairs quickly, taking his place at the base of the bannister opposite the queen and younger princess. The attention of the room went heavenward as a dashing man stepped out from the right hall, his tall body dressed in a pure white coat, gold embroidering about the lapels, shoulders, and cuffs designated him an important person. He wore black trousers and black shoes beneath. His square face was covered in a thick even black beard, his equally voluminous black hair brushed in waves over his stiff collar. His eyes were bright blue and as warm and kind as his queen's as he watched the girl take her place at the top of the stairs opposite him.

She had emerged from the left side of the staircase, primly and quietly. Iracebeth was lean, but not as lanky as Mirana. She still had a slight air of childhood about her, but her face was long and well defined. Her eyebrows were pencil thin and black as night even at this age, her entire head its proper size. Her eyes were as dark as her mother's as she smiled across at her father with painted red lips, still in the shape of a heart. Her eyebrows were bright blue against her white powder, her red hair pulled tightly against her head and tucked into a bun instead of shaped into a heart. She was simultaneously Iracebeth and not Iracebeth.

The woman wore a beautiful gown, its top a ruffling black, lacey sleeves graced her pale shoulders. Her bodice was covered in a beautiful gold brocade. Her outer skirts a beautiful crimson color, the underskirt peeking out from the front of the dress where the over-skirt split was a gold to match the bodice. She looked regal and enchanting as she lifted her long skirts lightly, her bustling bouncing as she descended the stairs to the next landing. Here she met her father, he bowed to her reverently before offering his elbow. Iracebeth took it with the haughty rise of her chin.

 _A girl of sixteen, budding and sure and beautiful,_ Alice smiled to herself, hardly accepting that this was the girl who would later blossom into a tyrant.

"I, King Oleron," the man placed his hand to his chest, indicating next to his wife at the base of the stairs, "Along with my wife, Queen Elsemere, present our daughter, Iracebeth of Witzend, Princess of the Castle Pasdeuxtris, as eligible to begin searching for a proper husband. A man who will take my place when I am taken by Time and who will support my daughter while she balances the demands of ruling a kingdom. Let only the worthy grace my beloved girl with their efforts." King Oleron paused as the crowd about Alice began to clap before descending the final staircase with Iracebeth on his arm.

Queen Elsemere enclosed her daughter in a hug, placing a kiss on her cheek much to the girl's disgust. Mirana looked positively dissatisfied as the attention swept to her sister.

Alice watched as Iracebeth made eye contact with a young courtier to her left; a boy who appeared to be about her age. He had dark shaggy hair and striking blue eyes and Alice could see the appeal a young man as such could have on an impressionable young lady. He watched Iracebeth for a brief moment before turning into the crowd, much to the girl's apparent dismay.

The crowd about Alice began to make their way into the great hall, pushing her alongside in the bustle. Reluctantly she allowed herself to be bounced along, the smells of enticing cuisines next door reminding Alice of how hungry she had become. She figured it would not hurt to have a meal and enjoy watching a dance or to. She herself did not enjoy her own season, but she had found the parties and gossip surrounding them fun in her younger days. There would be time to return the Chronosphere later. After all, she had all the time in the world in her pocket.

* * *

Alice was soon reminded that as much as she found the novelty of such events enjoyable, they grew quickly dull after about an hour of watching awkward young girls dance about with handsome young men, the joy lighting in their faces when asked by a boy they especially admired.

Alice had also spotted Tyva Hightopp entering with two redheaded girls at her side, Elspeth and Siobhan if Alice were to guess, and she knew that it would be a matter of time before she was sighted by Tyva who found her fascinating. Alice figured it would be best to avoid contact with a woman whose husband had thrown Alice out his doors hours earlier. Skirting alongside the edge of the hall Alice quickly made for the large ornate mother-of-pearl doors which led to the grand foyer and then out the front doors. She had nearly made it when a shriek filled the air.

All turned to see that an entire punch bowl had been upended and several tarts were scattered all about the floor. Mirana stood coolly behind the table where the punchbowl had been sitting, her dark eyes watching as the recipient of the unwelcomed shower stood before the table.

Alice burned in secondhand embarrassment as she instantly recognized the girl-turned-woman. Iracebeth's gorgeous debutante gown was ruined by the red liquid that was seeping quickly into the fine fabric. Angry tears filled her brown eyes as she glared at her sister with disdain.

"You did it on purpose!" Iracebeth screamed. Mirana blinked back, her big brown eyes reflecting innocence.

"I did not!" She retorted.

"You did so! It's because everyone is paying attention to _me_ for once!" Iracebeth fumed. The ballroom fell silent as the girls began their row before the court.

Alice sympathized with both sisters until she saw one more witness to the tragedy. Standing beside Mirana behind the safety of the table was the dark haired blue eyed boy that Iracebeth had sent an amorous glance to earlier that evening. Alice had half hoped that he would dance with the debutante just to be cordial, but he had neglected the princess all evening. Stepping closer she saw a coy look on the younger princess' face.

 _Mirana did it to embarrass her sister_ , Alice thought despondently. _And now the foolish girl has ruined the entire evening._

Alice watched as Elsemere and Oleron rushed to their daughter's side. "Iracebeth," Elsemere's voice was light and hushed.

"Please, play us a number to liven our spirit!" King Oleron looked to the fish band that provided a live orchestra in the corner. The creatures blinked clueless for a moment, before nodding their gaping maws in understanding, beginning the notes of a lively dance number.

Alice sidled closer to the scene that was continuing to grow as Mirana remained silent and Iracebeth raged. "Iracebeth, please, you must calm down. This is no way for a lady to behave."

"She spilled the punch and ruined this dress on _purpose!_ " Iracebeth screamed, pointing an accusing finger at Mirana.

"Now sweetheart, why would Mira do something like that?" The king shook his head. Iracebeth looked pointedly at the boy at Mirana's side. He stepped away, quickly slipping into the crowd of revelers at the end of the table. The look of hurt that flashed across the abandoned princess' face was palpable.

"She is jealous of me!" Iracebeth answered. "She wanted to make me look like a fool!"

"Mirana," Queen Elsemere looked across the table to her youngest daughter, her dark eyes searching the girl's face. "Did you do this on purpose?"

"No," Mirana responded immediately, shaking her white locks. The smile that crept up at the edges of her face when her parents turned their backs told a different story.

"She's always doing this! Always lying! Because you _believe_ her over me! It's the same thing with the tarts, it's the same thing with mother's earrings, it's the same thing with the spells!" Iracebeth raged. Her mother tried to putt a soothing hand on her daughter's arm, but Iracebeth ripped away.

She took off sprinting out of the room, her hands covering her face as tears of shame and heartbreak began. Alice froze as Iracebeth rushed by her, rustling her skirts as passed; Alice turned to glance back at the king and queen as they looked to each other before racing off after the princess. Inspired by their efforts and spurred by her own insatiable curiosity, Alice also gave chase.

The girl was quick, slipping through the doors and pushing past the growing number of guests to enter the foyer. Alice speed after her, following her as the girl sprinted outside the castle doors.

"If you don't wish to hear me, I don't wish to be princess anymore!" She cried dramatically.

Alice heard King Oleron and Queen Elsemere shout after their daughter, Elsemere gripping her skirts as she hurried after her eldest, Oleron struggling to run despite his improper footwear.

Iracebeth led the pursuers on a chase down the stairs that led up to the castle's front door, down the long walkway through the marble gates, and into the midst of Witzend. Alice watched as the girl slipped several times on the snow, catching her balance, narrowly escaping several potential face-plants into the slick cobblestone.

Hurrying through the streets, Iracebeth made straight for the square. Alice pushed past the townsfolk who had stayed home from the debutante ball, mostly older women and ineligible men, stumbling out of pubs and shops to see what the commotion was about. As Alice pushed through a rather large gathering of men lurching out of a bar, all stinking of a sweet alcohol as they swayed on their feet, she heard a squeal of pain.

Terror overtook her limbs as she pushed past to see the fallen princess laying at the base of a statue carved in the likeness of her father; the pale girl lay motionless in the snow. Alice nearly rushed to the girl's side to see if the child was still alive, but instead side stepped to allow the anxious parents hot on her tail to reach their daughter first. The crowd of bawdy men had immediately stepped to the side when they caught sight of the King and Queen of Underland hurrying through their midst.

"Iracebeth!" Her mother screamed, falling to her knees she hugged her limp child to her chest. "Oh Time, Iracebeth!" She cried.

"Is she...?" King Oleron reached out to touch the curve of his daughter's neck gently. He paused a moment before his blue eyes widened. "Doctor, we need a doctor!" He screamed, ripping the girl from her mother's arms.

Alice noticed the snow at the base of the sculpture was stained red, large drops plopped into the pure white powder as Oleron held his daughter's body. As he turned, looking for any sort of help Alice saw the source of all the blood.

A large gash split Iracebeth's head from her left hairline to her right cheek, the nasty slash cutting across an eyebrow and past her nose which lay crumpled on her face.

 _I must have done something_ , Alice panicked as she beheld a wound that would certainly permanently mar any being, Underlandian or not. _Oh Time, what have I done?_

Turning on her heels quickly to evade the scene she nearly knocked into another being behind her.

There stood Tarrant, his young face looking up to her kindly.

"Are you alright, Miss?" He asked.

"Please," Alice looked down at him imploringly. "I have to go,"

Tarrant nodded his head in understanding. "I heard what you told my mother tonight," he grabbed her hand, pausing her for a moment. Alice stopped, turning to place her hands on both sides of his round face.

"Don't forget it, Tarrant Hightopp, promise me that!" She begged.

"My mother says you're a fhàidh, but my father says it's all nonsense." He canted his head. Alice felt tears coming to her eyes.

"Perhaps it is," she agreed. "But I promise you what I tell you is true. Now, I need to go and make something right," Alice took his small hand in hers, squeezing it roughly.

"I hope I meet you again someday," he stepped towards her as if to follow.

"You will," she turned, sniffing away her tears.

Leaving him behind, Alice took the Chronosphere from her pocket, hurrying to the edge of town before rolling it forward, unleashing its full potential.

Hopping inside she quickly pulled the hanging chain, depressing the lever as she burst forward, once again being swallowed by the Ocean of Time.

The Chronosphere bounced along, hissing and sputtering, Alice desperately trying to fight for control as she headed back to the future. _Have I ruined all of this?_ Her mind raced as she tried to steer the electric ball straight.

The days of the Oraculum began to spin quickly toward the future, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to remember the day she had just come from. _Was it Relux? Or possibly Talida?_ The compass clicked at dizzying speeds as she shot forward.

Eyeing the memory clouds that flew by she spotted one that was a loop of a joyful looking Mirana in the hall of Marmoreal. Alice quickly shot into the bubble, hoping it was the day she left. She looked to the Oraculum before her.

 _Caviamour_ she noted as she neared the flashback

Her mind was reeling with the scene of an injured Iracebeth, her heart pounding as she realized that maybe the girl hadn't survived the encounter. _I don't remember_ meddling, Alice worried, her eyes narrowing as she headed for the memory bubble. _Perhaps I ruined everything by visiting the Hightopps._ She had either chosen wrongly or had altered Time in way she would come to dread.

 _Unless…unless Iracebeth dying means that the Jabberwocky will not come to pass_ , a small hope welled in her chest as she pushed forward toward the swelling wave.

The Chronosphere burst through the memory with a jolt, but Alice was prepared for the jerk and held tightly to the band about the sphere's middle. She stayed upright, slowing the Chronosphere to avoid a crash landing, setting the sphere onto the dark grass under an unfamiliar night sky.

Stepping warily from the orb Alice turned to the castle with a sharp inhale. This was Marmoreal, not Witzend or Salazen Grum, and all looked well. Perhaps she _had_ changed the future. Perhaps she had saved the Hightopps inadvertently.

 _Which means I won't be needed for the Frabjous Day,_ a passing idea shook Alice's core. Shaking the thought from her head she hoped that even if the Jabberwocky was stopped, her friends would still need her.

Would still _know_ her.

Scooping down she picked up the sphere once more, tucking it away in her pocket.

She hoped that this Time she had chosen correctly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few things.
> 
> Yes, I know that Rhys and Siobhan and Elspeth were not the names of the characters standing in for Tarrant's (rather small?) family. But I'm sorry, I am not using stupid and meaningless names like Paloo and Pimlick and Bumalig which most of them have no name meanings, when names like Tyva, Tarrant, and Zanik have been chosen.
> 
> Fhàid, as best as I can tell, means prophetess in Scottish Gaelic. I have figured Tyva was from a Scottish-influenced clan in Underland and that is where she gets her light accent from in the movie and where Tarrant is influenced in both his angry brogue and his tartan.
> 
> I based the different aged Mirana/Iracebeth on one photo I found not long after the original movie. It can be found on my tumblr page (the-resplendent-furiosa) at (/) post (/) 7570589217 (/) story-inspiration-3-katemars-alice-in. I'll put a link for it in my profile page so you can find it more easily.
> 
> And sorry to all that hate that I'm adding a bit of a jilted-love angle to this story, but in my defense it was already hinted at in the original AiW 2010. Props to those of you who remember/identify it. (Hint, a certain Knave points it out).
> 
> As always, leave a comment and a like if you can. They're always appreciated. And my PM inbox is ALWAYS open and I do my best to reply ASAP. I love talking with my readers and sometimes I drop hints in PMs, so yeah. Hit. Me. Up.
> 
> Until next update!
> 
> Fairfarren
> 
> Lydia


	5. Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This will be a total of ten parts as I finished the outline (I knew where I wanted to go but needed to piece them together until figuring it out last evening). I'm trying to decide whether I want to try to push to finish this before the movie is released on DVD or not...I'd be only a week or so behind. But I am starting my college classes soon so Time will be limited. Keep checking author's note for further updates.
> 
> Were you able to see one of the deleted scenes from the movie Disney released in its promotion? I wish they hadn't cut it! (Especially since Alan Rickman had lines in it :()
> 
> In between this and waiting for the next update you should check out my Labyrinth and AiW crossover, Of Labyrinths and Lovers. It follows my Mad Sort of Love canon, but the two previous books do not need to be read in order to understand what's going on. Though, you're welcome to read those. For now this work can only be found on my FFN page (fairfarrenlovelylydia) but will be posted here as soon as I finish posting Through the Mirror. 
> 
> As always, reviews and favorites are always appreciated!
> 
> Fairfarren,
> 
> Lydia

Alice shuddered as she headed toward the castle, squinting as she struggled to see under the light of a new moon. The castle of Marmoreal loomed before her; her heart racing as she hoped she had chosen the right day in the sea of events, past and present.

 _Oh why did I not pay attention when I first dived through the memories?_ Alice scolded herself, a shiver traveling down her spine as a cool wind blew.

Her feet tapped against the white cobblestone of the streets of Marmoreal, her hair blowing gently in the breeze as she continued toward the epicenter of the quiet city. A clock behind her chimed eleven times, telling her that it was very late at night and she would certainly look suspicious walking about in a ruined silk costume. She hoped that the filigree wrought iron gates that barred entrance to the castle at night would be open. The most sensible thing to do would be to lock them, especially if danger in the form of Red Queen was looming in the distance.

She was pleased, however, to find that the gates were opened; a promising omen that indeed she had returned to a peaceful Time. If she had not returned to her present, then she must have returned to a moment not long before or after where Mirana still reigned and Iracebeth was banished to the Outlands/ Alice felt a sigh of relief escape her lips as her chest lightened.

Approaching the palace doors, Alice was surprised to see toads standing guards. She hadn't remembered anything but chess pieces from when she last visited the city. With determined steps toward the guards, Alice set her chin straight, squared her shoulders. If she had learned anything being a ship's captain for a short time, it was that if one looked confidant and in control one was very rarely stopped.

"Who goes there?" The frog to the left demanded, shattering her plan to stroll right on by the guards with poise. He was the taller of the two and a verdant green with jade spots along his stringy arms and triangular face. He brandished a rather fierce looking spear, swinging the pointed end in Alice's face.

Alice ducked backwards, the metal tip missing her face by mere centimeters. "Be careful with that!" She scolded. "My name is Alice Kingsleigh, and I am Champion to the Queen. I need to speak with her Majesty on important and urgent business." She set her mouth, nodding her head tightly as she narrowed her eyes at the frog.

The frog holding the spear looked to his friend, the structure of his face where brows might have been depressing in confusion. "Do you know of an Alice?"

"Can't say that I do. Or ever heard of one, for that matter." The smaller frog shrugged, his club lolling from his shoulder to hang loosely by his side.

"Please, I wish to speak to the Queen; as I said, it is of a most urgent matter," Alice pressed the frog, taking a step closer. The frog with the spear swung the weapon again. "You're going to hurt someone with that, you fool!" Alice growled.

"Which queen are you looking to speak to?" The spear frog demanded.

"Well it would have to be the White Queen," his friend reasoned. "After all, this is Marmoreal."

"I _know_ that, but the Red Queen is here as well. Maybe she," he gestured toward Alice, "found out that her royal Highness is visiting for a spell."

"Hmm, maybe," the taller frog shrugged. "Who you be looking for? The Red Queen or the White Queen?"

"Just to be sure I haven't missed anything," Alice scrunched her face as she struggled to look at the frogs in the shadow of the doors. "The Red Queen is Iracebeth of Crims?"

"None other," the small frog nodded his head. "And you'd best not forget that or you'll suffer the queen's wrath."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Alice sighed, her hands dropping to her waist. "I was rather hoping to meet the White Queen, Mirana, if I was able."

"She isn't taking in any petitioners," the taller frog crossed his arms. "So you'd best go along on your way."

"But it's rather urgent business I wish to speak with her about," Alice groaned as she realized that this was not the day she had left behind. This was another day from the past.

"You can't enter unless you're on official royal business," the frog shook his head.

"Very well then," Alice conceded. "I will be on my way and stop by in the morning."

"That's when logical people do." The small frog nodded his head sharply.

Alice turned on her heels, her mind racing as she considered other ways to get into the castle. Clearly she would not be able to slip past the guards— perhaps there was another entrance?

She descended the small set of stairs leading from the castle entrance toward the outer walls when a giggle lighted in her ears. Looking up she nearly gasped at her luck.

Merrily making his way up the cobblestone path toward the castle was a familiar red headed man with a gap toothed grin. His face wasn't as pale as she remembered, his eyes a little more sane. But even from this distance and several years less on his face, she could tell it was none other than Tarrant Hightopp.

"Tarrant!" Alice exclaimed, quickly closing the distance between them. Tarrant looked up at her, confusion crossing his brows.

"It's you!" His face lit up as she approached him.

"I'm sorry?" Alice balked, surprised to find that he recognized her. This land was far too peaceful for her to have first come as a child, and supposing if she had, he certainly wouldn't be able to recognize her so quickly. Surely not. "You've seen me before?"

"Yes!" He laughed. "You interrupted me several years ago when I was at the merchant stalls. And then you gave me the best advice there was." He leaned closer to inspect her all the better. "Alice, right?"

"Yes, that's me!" The woman beamed.

 _Perhaps I was wrong_ , Alice's heart slowed as she smiled at her friend. She didn't remember meeting him at any merchant stalls, but quickly waved the thought away.

"What are you doing here? I thought you said the next time I would meet you I'd be older and you'd be younger, but you seem much the same age as when I met you last," his thick red brows crossed in confusion again.

Alice sighed, "I must have gotten it all wrong…and all right?" She looked back at the castle. "Iracebeth of Crims is in there?"

"Yes," the milliner wrinkled his nose. "Quite a nasty creature, especially after her fall."

"What do you mean?" Alice looked at him with wide eyes.

"Well, she was rather ghastly looking when she had that large scar over her head, the poor dear," Tarrant began to explain. "But then she and Mirana started their studies and she studied the dominion over living things and the next thing everyone knows is that she reappears back a court with the scar removed from her forehead but her head well…" he looked about nervously, his eyes searching for listeners. His hand snuck up near his mouth so that the sound only traveled toward Alice as he leaned in. "Her head is bulbous now." His hands gestured about his head to indicate the size that Iracebeth's skull had expanded to. "Massive, if you must."

"Oh dear," Alice grumbled. "But you…you took my advice? You told your family?"

"Indeed I did," he reached out his hand to shake hers enthusiastically. "I thank you for it, Alice!"

"Of course, it was the least I could do," Alice nodded her head. "Listen, do you think you might be able to help me out?" Alice glanced back at the castle, her curiosity renewed in regards to this Red Queen.

"Certainly," the Hatter nodded his head.

"Would you be able to get me into the castle? I'm afraid that I missed the visiting hours for her Majesty and the frog guards will not let me past." She explained. Tarrant's face lit up once again.

"It would be my pleasure, Alice!" He bowed to her. "Come, come, we must hurry. I'm afraid I've been out rather late this evening. I came all the way back from Witzend where I was celebrating my clan's yearly spring hatting festival."

"I hope it was a lovely time," Alice nodded her head, following the milliner as he continued on his way toward the castle.

"I am happy to say that I presented my first Hightopp top hat at the haberdashery; my family all loved especially my mother," Tarrant's grin expanded as he looked back at Alice. "She was pleased at the news that you delivered. She said to always take the advice of Alices. She had met one once, called her a prophetess in her native tongue." His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "Come to think of it, she said that the Alice she met in our shop once upon a night had blonde hair and green eyes, much like you."

"Oh?" Alice inquired. He had remembered her from a time she could not recall, but could not recall her from a moment she remembered.

He shrugged off the coincidence, "Must just be what Alices look like, I suppose."

"That could be," Alice nodded her head. If the Hightopps were saved there wouldn't be much use in wasting the time to explain that she was the witch from his mother's memory. She'd tell him when she returned to her right proper time. It would be the inside jest she could carry back to amuse him with.

The frog guards straightened as the milliner and the blonde girl approached. Alice saw the look of recognition that dilated both the amphibians' leopard patterned eyes. Gulping, she sidled closer to Tarrant as if to further demonstrate the relationship between the two.

"Hello Lewis," Tarrant nodded to the taller frog, "And Charles," he greeted the smaller.

"Good evening, Sir Hightopp," Lewis responded, his eyes not leaving Alice. "We were told to expect you later this night. How were your travels?"

"It was a long journey from Witzend and I'm rather glad to be back. A warm bed sounds wonderfully delicious," the hatter hummed. "If you wouldn't mind letting me pass, I'll be returning to my apartments and my warm quilts." He tried to move past the frogs, but was blocked by Lewis, who swung his spear in the middle of Tarrant's path. The hatter sighed, looking down at the frog with arched brows.

"We weren't told that you were bringing a guest." Charles stated, his club returning to his weak shoulder once more in a show of intimidation.

"What?" The Hatter looked confused for a moment before he turned around to spy Alice. "Oh, yes. This here is Alice."

"So she told us," Lewis nodded. "But I still don't know what that means."

"Oh, she's a kind young woman," Tarrant patted Alice's back. "She's coming with me into the castle, if you wouldn't mind."

Alice watched as Charles looked to Lewis with hesitation, but both frogs nodded as they looked to the milliner.

"I suppose if you'll take responsibility for her, we have to let her in." Lewis conceded, stepping aside. Tarrant's smile flourished as he passed the two.

"You are both wonderful servants. I'll tell Mirana about how accommodating and kind you are," Tarrant passed, waving Alice along in a signal to follow. She did so without further prompting.

Both frogs kept their eyes on her as she walked by and she could feel their suspicion. She didn't dare glance back as she followed Tarrant into the foyer of the white castle. Looking around she saw that the palace was as vast and pristine as it was— or rather, would be— when Alice entered it as Marmoreal's potential Champion.

"Thank you again, Tarrant," Alice reached out to place a hand on the milliner's arm. "I owe you."

"It is a debt that I am paying, Alice, I assure you." Tarrant patted her hand gaily.

"I don't wish to keep you up any longer, so I shall be on my way."

"You know the castle?" The milliner looked at the blonde with puzzlement once more.

"Would it suffice to tell you that it's a long story for which I certainly do not have the time?" She winced, hoping he would let her pass uninterrogated.

"I suppose," he stretched his arms heavenward, his body crackling with tight joints. A yawn made a cavern of his mouth as drowsiness descended upon his green eyes. "I'm afraid to say I'm as sleepy as a dormouse and should be off to bed, else I'd pester you further."

"I will tell you someday," Alice promised as she reached out to squeeze his hand.

"This does mean I'll have the privilege of meeting you again?" His head canted as his eyes swept her face.

"I'm not sure you'll call it a privilege in a few years; I may evolve into a nuisance." A sad grin crossed her pink lips as she knew in a few short years he'd be killing Time and getting himself trapped at a tea table, cursed to suffer tea time over and over because of her.

"If I should ever think that of you, dear Alice, please call me a dunderhehded ninnymonger."

"I'll do my best to remember that," she promised. She reached out to cover his hand in her right, his fingers still gripping her left. "Goodbye, Tarrant. And good night." Alice leaned forward to place a small kiss on the milliner's cheek.

"Good night to you," Tarrant coughed, his cheeks pinking in the dim candlelight. "And do sleep well, have good dreams I mean, not bad ones, only sweet ones. I mean if you do have bad ones I hope that you quickly forget them and that you awaken and that you only remember the good ones and…"

"Tarrant," Alice chuckled as she shook his hand with hers. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before letting go of her hand. "Goodbye for now; I shall see you later."

"Well then," he shook his head. "Goodbye is the wrong word. _Fairfarren_ Alice."

Alice felt her heart drop into her stomach at the word. He had used it once toward her, when she had made a promise to return. She felt tears prick the back of her eyes. How she had so hastily made that deal without a second thought to seeing it fulfilled.

"Right," Alice cleared her throat of emotion. "Fairfarren, Tarrant."

He waved to her before turning and heading down the corridor. She watched him walk in the flickering candlelight. He turned his head once more to look back at her before rounding the corner. Alice waved her hand in a small salute goodbye.

With emotion raw in her throat at the memory, Alice turned on her feet, making her way toward the throne room and beyond that the private chambers of the White Queen.

* * *

As Alice met the younger Tarrant who charmed her and the older Tarrant who brought fresh emotion to light, Time found himself with a Tarrant who angered him so.

The deity thought he had bested the blonde when he had sent the Chronosphere flying into the oceans above, watching it closely as it careened out of control. He had planned to note which crest of memory she stumbled into with the intent to follow in pursuit. Once she had landed, he would overtake her, bind her, and return her and the Chronosphere to the Castle of Eternity. From there he could hand her over to Iracebeth and right the Grand Clock. It would be simple, really, like taking candy from a…well, kindergartner.

Time's plan was working splendidly until the wave he was surfing finally crashed, sending his own contraption flying headlong toward the memories of the past. He fought desperately for control, but the simply hand-pump machine had poor steering and no way to counterbalance itself like the Chronosphere's orbital shape allowed. Time had to hold on tight, his gloves creaking as he gripped the handles of the cart securely.

Crashing into a wave, the deity was sent hurdling through a gray sky, his machine slowing as he hit the sail of a windmill, the wood snapping as it broke in half. Bracing himself for impact, Time met the ground with a resounding "Umph!", his machine tearing up a bed of wilting flowers, his body landing in a patch of soft moss, saving him from any real damage. Groaning, he sat up, daring to open his coat to peer at the time piece on his chest.

It was not further damaged by the abrupt landing, the shattered clockface continued to tick with stubborn creak. With diminished time and power, however, he further felt the entire impact of the landing, wincing as he sat up with new bruises and drained energy. Shaking his head to try to clear the ringing in his ears, he looked across the way to see three pairs of eyes staring in shocked concern at him.

He had interrupted a tea party; from the looks of it, it wasn't a very merry one. Sitting closest to him on the left side of the large table was a hare, his long ears folding as he watched Time sit up. Across the way was a conscious dormouse; the small creature stood on a stack of books so that she was able to reach her tea cup placed before her. At the head of the table was a man wearing a brown overcoat and black pinstriped trousers, a black polka dotted cravat about his neck and a singed top hat sitting on his mess of red curls. He sat at in an enormous wing-back chair, his green eyes watching the deity closely.

Time pushed himself to his feet, brushing himself off and creating a dust cloud about his magnificent black coat. A spooked horsefly bucked in the air before him, Time quickly swatting it away as he turned to behold the party goers.

The hare quailed before him, his ears dropping even further as he shook in his fabulous blue coat. The dormouse's small face watched the deity in wonder. The man at the end of the table, with the damaged hat and the red mouthed grimace, watched Time approach in shocked suspicion.

Time surveyed the attendees one last time, his blue gaze drawn to the ornate hat that sat atop the man's ginger head. Elegant hat pins were tucked into the salmon pink ribbon wrapped around the band, its tail swaying lightly in the breeze. The man's fingers danced about the lip of a tea cup filled with dark liquid before him, Time realized his hands were scarred and stained, a thumb was bandaged and several fingers bore thimbles. As the deity approached, he further noticed a bandolier stocked with bobbins and scissors and needles crossed the man's chest.

Time's brows stitched as he realized this was the Mad Hatter. Tarrant Hightopp.

And if Time's sneaking suspicions were correct (and of course they were, he was a _god_ after all) he assumed that if Tarrant was here, a troublesome Alice was not far.

"Greeting Underlings," Time's voice rang over the tinny music emitting from a gramophone off to the Hatter's left. He carefully stepped onto the Persian rug below table, being sure not to trip and look like a buffoon before these subjects. "I am Time; the infinite, the immortal— the personification of time itself."

He watched as the Hatter's eyes narrowed as he approached, the dormouse crossing her small arms. Only the March Hare seemed to cower under his presence, and for that Time thought about granting the creature with a few more years on his pocket watch.

"I know you might find this concept a bit hard to digest, but please, keep your bewilderments brief and to the point." Time waved his hand, signaling that they should, indeed, hurry up with the groveling and question asking. _If there are fewer things I can;t stand_ , the man thought grouchily, _it's subjects wasting me with pointless stumbling and long winded sentences._

The deity looked over the table, his blue eyes burning with his mighty power (or what of it he had left). The hare watched him with a reverential bow of his head, whispering across the way to the dormouse who was beginning to understand the gravity of a being like him in her presence. Her tail drooped as she looked up to the man with pinned ears.

The only one who still seemed defiant was this Hightopp. His steely amber gaze met the deity, a warning light amidst the purple, blue, and pinkish hues smudged about his eyes. His red mouth was drawn tight in suspicion. When Time made eye contact with the milliner, he received a forced gap-toothed grin in return.

But the orange eyes still burned, as if expecting a challenge.

Time was certainly willing to give him one if the milliner desired.

* * *

Back at the Castle of Eternity Wilkins found himself standing before a quickly deteriorating Grand Clock. He watched in horror as more of the glass fell away from the orange face of the time keeper of all of Underland, nearly oiling himself when several gears sprung loose.

The minute hand was threatening to stop, the overeager Second, Welpe, was hopping on the hand to keep it moving. Wilkins felt the crowding of Seconds about him, all of them looking to him for guidance.

Now was not a time to panic.

It was shame he was panicking.

"Don't worry men, we can do this!" He heard himself say, his metallic fists clenching in determination before his face. The steam vent at the back of his head shot forth a puff of air as he stepped toward the clock.

Welpe jumped off the hand to pay attention to a gear that was threatening to break loose. His small grunst of effort filled the balcony as the Seconds and Wilkins watched below as he continued his leaping.

A fourth bounce sent the gear, and the Second, flying through the air, a spring bouncing before the small craftsman.

Wilkins would be sweating, if he was able to sweat; Time had not constructed him with that capability.

Instead, he turned to the fallen Second, looking down on the group of Seconds before him. Narrowing his eyes, he continued to fake a calm demeanor, proclaiming with assurance:

"Just not with him."

* * *

Elsewhere, Time found himself watching Tarrant as he prepared to explain why he had interrupted their tea party with a mighty intentional crash. Because he, as Time, had purposefully crashed their tea party. He felt bad for making such a mess behind him, but if he had just known that there was no good spot for landing, well then, he would have arranged something in the distance and approached the trio with a bit more poise.

"I seek a thief of meager intellect," Time began, watching as the hare began to sip his tea with an ear inclined toward the being before him. Time would certainly have to arrange something to reward this fearing and respectful subject. "Her hair— "

"Yes?" The hare turned to him with wide eyes.

"Yellowish," Time's attentions turned to the hatter whose gaze fell to the table as he listened. His eyes had returned to an emerald green and Time hoped it meant that this Tarrant Hightopp would be cooperative. He hated having to dole punishments out on his servants that were less than accommodating. "Her name," the being looked pointedly to the hatter. "Alice."

Tarrant's bushy eyebrows shot upwards, but he quickly changed his countenance, his mouth falling open as his gaze shifted from the table to Time. "And what is your business with her?" He asked innocently enough.

Time inwardly groaned; he had hoped that this milliner would give her over to him willingly. It seemed he would need a little more persuading.

"She took something from me," Time answered, suddenly ashamed at admitting he had been bested by the blonde. Not that he had been really trying to stop her. Had he been, then certainly he would have been able to put an end to her purloining pertinence. No he had gone easy on her.

"I will not say what it was, it was not important," Time struggled to save face. He glanced at Tarrant whose brows crossed as he watched Time try to explain how a girl of 'meager intellect' (he _had_ said that, hadn't he?) had bested the deity. "It's a trifle," he rolled his blue eyes, wondering why the creatures at the table were suddenly making _such_ a big deal out of him needing to name what Alice had taken. "I don't see why you're making such a fuss! It is as nothing!"

 _They know, I can see it, they had best tell me because I need it back before I implode!_ Time raged as he watched the hatter's gaze drop to the table, suddenly uninterested. _Does he not realize the importance of what has been stolen? How he could cease to exist in a matter of moments!_

"Where is it? I must have it back!" Time looked to the dormouse, hoping that she would perhaps reveal what Alice had done with it.

But there went the Hatter all over again, leaning forward and demanding what it was that Time had lost. As if he had the privilege and the intellect to know! "Not that I'm concerned!"

The dormouse held up a finger, signaling a moment, as her face scrunched in confusion. Her narrowed amber eyes looked to Tarrant in confusion. The Hatter opened his mouth as if to say something

 _Do they not realize all of Underland is in danger?_ Time raged, "As soon as possible!" He demanded.

Those looks again! Looks that wanted to know what it was a stupid kindergartner could take from the immortal and immeasurable Time! "Either way, I'm fine with the outcome."

Their faces fell into confusion and apathy once more, Time's fury meeting a new high as his eyes grew white and the time piece in his chest ached. "Give it to me! Who knows about it?" He demanded.

Tarrant's green eyes narrowed as he, too, watched Time with bewildered amusement, his gaze sliding to meet Mally's puzzled stare. He hummed quietly, the dormouse nodding in a secret mutual understanding.

 _So they do know!_ Time wanted to smile proudly, wanted to pat himself on the back for once again being the cleverest chap in the room. But he needed to remain in control; he mustn't let them know he was on to their hidden plan.

"Well, you are in luck, old Timely one," Tarrant rose from his seat, a coy smile crossing his red lips.

"Hmm?" Time was taken aback at the sudden omission. Perhaps he was as powerful and clever and intimidating as Wilkins reminded him every morning when he stared himself down in the looking glass, cleaning up his elegant mutton chops.

"Because just the other day I invited Alice to tea." The milliner explained with a wide grin. Time stood dumbstruck, surprised at how easy it was to garner information. He expected, from the look of those amber eyes earlier, that it would have taken more of a fight. He watched as the hatter approached him.

Tarrant grabbed hold of the deity's pinky, the man looking down to see plaid fingerless gloves and stained hands tucked behind lacey sleeves. His gaze then traveled to the man, taking in his entire outfit. Below Tarrant's brown coat and colorful cravat was a gray and black Harlequin waistcoat. He was dapperly dressed, properly prepared for tea time and its predictable customs.

Time followed as Tarrant led him to the ottoman at the end of the table, patting the cushion in a welcome gesture for the deity to sit down.

"Oh, that wee girl!" The March Hare squealed in delight.

"Shut up!" The dormouse retorted, tossing a large raspberry at the hare's head.

"Have a seat," Tarrant beamed merrily as the deity took a cautious seat the opposite end of the table, "we can wait for her together."

"There's no room at the table!" The hare exclaimed in a thick accent. "No room, no room!" His head turned so that his wide yellow eye could stare at Time menacingly as the man sat down.

"Shh!" The dormouse hissed, tossing a strawberry this time, clonking the hare on the head.

"Plenty of room," the hare began to nodded vigorously. "Plenty of room!"

 _They are most certainly mad_ , Time thought to himself as he watched the milliner walk confidently along the length of the table, taking his place at the opposite end.

As he passed the hare, the Hatter exclaimed "Tea for our guest! Just like all the others!"

"Tea time!" The creature exclaimed joyously.

The hare, egged on by this request, jumped to the table. He grabbed the white porcelain tea pot before him in paw and began bounding amongst the cakes and the scones and the tarts toward the deity posited at the end. One of his huge feet upset a delicate cake toward the left, a hop knocked over a huge mound of muffins. Tea splattered about the hare as it splashed over the top and out the spout of the pot. When the March Hare reached the end of the table, he found to his dismay that no tea would come out when he tried to pour a cup for Time.

Time found his patience wearing thin, a hard task for someone like he who was a being made entirely out of time and waiting.

Finding that he had no tea for the guest, the hare pulled a frosted strawberry pastry from his pocket, proffering it to the being. "Would you like a scone?" His face turned toward the dessert before him, his pupils dilating in delight as he immediately forgot about serving the esteemed guest as the prospect of a fresh scone wafted deliciously into his slit nostrils. He licked the scone readily.

"No," Time answered in disgust, his mouth wrinkling under the hair of his thick black muttonchops.

"So," Tarrant called the being's attention from the other side of the table. He was perched on the edge of his wing back chair, his weight placed on his right elbow as he spoke emphatically, leaning forward as if to close the still great distance between the two separate heads. "If you are really Time itself…yourself…or whatever suchness you claim," the hatter waved his hand as if to dismiss the utter importance of Time's entire being. The motion infuriated the deity. "Perhaps you can answer me this…"

Time set his jaw, knowing that whatever was to follow would seem amusing to the hatter but would certainly bring no joy to himself.

"I've always wondered when _soon_ is." Tarrant grabbed hold of either side of the table, his eyes narrowing as he waited for his answer.

"If you vex me," Time began, his blue eyes boring across the table at the milliner. "It will be an _eternity_."

The hatter's face fell from that of amusement to that of displeasure, his cravat and his hair drooping as well.

 _Now we shall play the game,_ Time thought morosely. _You think you shall win, but I will always have the upper hand._

Curling his fists beneath the table, Time steeled himself for the painful interrogation to come.

* * *

Further in the past, Alice found herself wandering the throne room of Marmoreal. The great hall was empty, but she could hear the distinct mutterings of low voices just beyond. Tiptoeing quietly, so as not to raise suspicions, Alice crossed the room to find the location of the hushed words.

Behind the dais, where sat a single teal cloth upholstered silver chair, and off to the left was a wooden door that was slightly ajar. Alice crept across the checkered marble floors to peer around the corner, her eyes widening at what she beheld.

There stood Mirana, older than she had been when Alice had last seen her in the castle at Witzend, but not as old as when Alice had been last called to Underland. If the blonde were to guess, she would assume the queen to be in her early twenties. She stood before a roaring fireplace, the orange glow warming her pale features. She wore a beautiful ball gown, the bell of the skirt not as round as she wore it now. The sparkles of her dress shimmered in the glow of the fire, along with the queen's face, as if she had placed jewelry about the corners of her eyes.

Mirana was also not alone.

Alice couldn't be entirely sure, but she thought for sure that the man who stood before Mirana was the same boy that had helped the jealous princess upend the punch on her sister during Iracebeth's debutante ball. His hair was dark, though it was hard to tell whether it was black or deep brown in the orange firelight, his eyes pale in contrast to Mirana's dark eyes. He sported a thin beard around his stern jawline. And he was tall. He stood nearly a head larger than Mirana, whose hands he held in his enormous palms before him.

A ring glinted on the left hand finger.

"You know what I want, Mirana," the man reasoned, his hands shaking her arms in a desperate plea.

"Oh, Philip, you can't do that," Mirana let his hands go. "You know what would happen if you did."

"But Mirana, how many times must I remind you," the man's deep voice was a mixture of exasperated and frantic.

"I wish you could remind me until the sun set behind the mountains of Marmoreal, until your whispers filled my ears at night," her hand reached out once more to intertwine with his. "But that cannot be."

"Why did I have to marry Iracebeth?' The man asked, stepping forward to wrap his arm about Mirana's slender middle. The woman's face fell. He quickly tilted it back toward him with steepled fingers. "Why couldn't you have been the oldest, my fair White Queen."

"You play with dangerous emotions, Philip," Mirana sighed.

"And you incited them," Philips answered. He cocked her head further upward, his mouth pressing to her lips.

The sounds of their kisses filled the air, searching hands pulled at clothing. Alice's eyes widened at the spectacle before her. _This is the King dressed in Red_ , Alice thought back to the moat at Salazen Grum, filled with severed head and thick with blood. _Soon he is bound to be dead_. She finished the rhyme morbidly.

"I'm going to leave her, when we return to the castle. I'm going to speak to Time and to your mother— "

"No, please," Mirana shook her head, her hands reaching up to grab at the edge of his cape. "Father has just been put to rest and buried, please do not incite mischief."

"Which is worse, Mira?" He asked, searching her eyes. "Pretending that I am in love with your sister, indulging her egotism and childish behavior, or admitting the truth and being with the woman I love?"

"But Philip, you are the Red King. Think of what it would do to your people!"

"My people and your people should be the same," Philip rolled his eyes. "Your father should not have been so kind to your sister, should not have split the kingdom so that she could have her fair share," the man's lips set in a firm line, forming a ghastly shadow about his features.

"It's because of her head," Mirana placed fingers to her temple.

"Which time? The time she was ugly because of her outburst or the time that she tried to stupidly fix it with clumsy ability and novice powers?"

"We should have been honest, we should have been nicer," Mirana looked up to the king with pleading eyes. "We should have treated her with kindness and respect. From the first moment. I was a selfish brat, Philip, and I was wrong."

"Do you regret this?" His voice was deep, thick with emotion.

"Oh Philip," Mirana pulled from her, her back turned towards him. "I regret the pain my sister has been put through, but I could never regret you."

She turned, her arms locking about his neck. "Please," Mirana looked to him with welling eyes. "If you must break her heart, do it gently. Do not be so brash and so bold as you normally are. Perhaps introduce her to your Knave. He seems like a good chap, a brave heart. Too large. As she is too large."

"She has been filling our court with such people," Philip said, his mouth close to hers. "Maybe I will grow lucky and she will grow too big for me."

"I doubt it," Mirana answered. "She's loved you since she was six years old and met you at the royal ball. You were her first and only love."

"It's a real shame that she's the way she is," Philip muttered, "and that you are wholly perfect and pure and pretty." He kissed her again.

"When you have left her," Mirana whispered, her hands curling about the nape of his neck. "Come only to me. I will be waiting. As I wait for you every time you make a visit to Marmoreal."

"It proves her stupidity, thinking I'm here all the time for royal visits," Philips sneered, a smile crossing his thick lips.

"She trusts you, she wants to believe she can win you over." Mirana answered.

"A pity I don't have a heart left to be bought," he answered, pushing against her as he kissed her harder. "What am I to do with her Jabberwocky? And why did your mother give it to her as a pet?" Philip asked Mirana between kisses.

Alice gasped, taking steps away from the door in shock.

 _What? Am I too early? Did she not yet try to destroy Witzend? Has she not tried to murder his family?_ Alice looked back toward the corridor she had come from. _But he said he knew. He said that I had given him the best advice I could._

"Who's there?" A deep voice demanded and Alice realized that her outburst had made the two aware of her eavesdropping. Quickly turning on her heels, Alice sprinted for the corridor, her boots slamming loudly on the marble floors.

"Is it Iracebeth?" She heard Mirana's panicked voice. "Hurry, Philip! We must be sure it's not her!"

Alice heard the sound of boots behind her, the chase was given. Alice reached into her skirt's pocket, wrapping her hand tightly about the Chronosphere.

Bursting out into the chilly night air, Alice tossed the small orb before her, sending it sailing onto the grass at the front the castle. It swiftly expanded in size once again.

"Guards, stop her!" The voice of Philip cried out behind her, the frog guards gasping in surprise at Alice's sudden and hasty appearance.

Alice flew down the stairs, nearly losing her footing as she sprinted toward the glowing Chronosphere.

"Hey!" One of the frogs called behind her. Alice made a flying leap for the Chronosphere, safely landing inside, her hands gripping the metal bands as she sought balance.

"Philip!" She heard Mirana's voice. "Who is that? _What_ is that?"

Alice quickly pulled the "Pull Me"handle, depressing the lever as she increased her speeds, beginning her escape out of the memory.

"Who was that? _I want her head!_ " The sound of Philip's angry cry could be heard echoing through the night as Alice sped through the clouds and back into the Oceans of Time.

 _I have not ruined anything,_ Alice paled as she realized that everything had happened as it was meant to. _Does that mean that, indeed, Tarrant's family is not saved?_

Alice continued to press forward on the lever, sending the Chronosphere skipping along the waves of time. The Oraculum continued to spin erratically, the orb damaged by her first crash landing. Alice stayed the lever with both hands, wide eyed watching the spinning compendium before her.

When she sighted the sketch of the Jabberwocky descending upon fleeing citizens, Alice banked hard to the left, skirting into the flashback.

Managing to take control, Alice landed in the midst of a raging fire, the smell of soot and char and burning flesh filled her nostrils. She looked around wildly, spotting the dark figure of the looming Jabberwocky ahead.

If she could run fast enough perhaps she could at least save Tarrant's parents and siblings. She would be able to salvage something from the horror.

The smoke and heat of the flames burned Alice's eyes as she ran through the fire, her silks picking up the dirt and soot as she ran forward.

"Zanik!" A terrified scream came from Alice's left. She turned, placing her sleeve over her nose and mouth so she could attempt to breath amidst the burning structures and leaping fire about her.

"Tyva!" Came a response.

Alice caught sight of Tyva first, her green skirts aflame as she ran through the chaos toward her husband's voice. She held two women by the hand.

"Where is Siobhan and Elspeth?" Zanik cried as he tumbled forward.

"I have them, I have them!" Tyva cried.

"Mother?" A second cry erupted from the midst of the flames.

"Rhys?" Came Tyva's maternal cry for her son. "Where is Poe?"

"He is here; he is with me!" Answered the cry of Rhys.

Alice could see them, not far ahead. Zanik had met them at the center of a ring of fire, his hand reaching out to take hold of his wife. He waved for his sons to join him.

 _If I could only run just a_ _ **little**_ _faster._ Alice willed herself, her legs already burning from the exertion she required, her lungs desiring for clean air. _Just hold on, Hightopps!_

"Where is Tarrant?" Tyva cried.

"I think he left with the White Queen, I think he's safe!" Elspeth cried out as she stumbled after her mother.

Alice leapt out of the way of the burning maypole, the crashing monument missing her by inches. Striding forward she leapt a bundle of flames, their tips licking at her skirts as she cleared the danger by millimeters. Hurrying forward, a hope welled as she was mere feet from them.

As she approached she felt the shadow before she heard the hideous scream. Alice looked up and spotted the creature she would come to know years from now.

 _Thirteen or so if I'm correct_.

Dread rang through her.

The creature was slinking toward the Hightopps left, letting loose a valiant roar. Alice watched with wide eyes as it opened its mouth and let loose a shocking purple bolt of lightning.

The bolt hit home right where Zanik Hightopp stood, his arms outstretched protecting his family. Alice watched in horror as the hatless man's blue eyes looked determinedly at the creature, his proud face set as he guarded his family.

"No!" Alice shrieked as the people disintegrated before her, reduced to nothing but ash in the singed grass.

The Jabberwocky cried out again, circling the damage he had caused before landing outside the ring of fire. With wide eyes Alice watched as Iracebeth climbed atop its terrible claw. Card guards surrounded the flames, making sure no survivors would be able to flee.

 _Oh Tarrant,_ Alice's eyes welled with sadness and pain. _Oh Tarrant, they_ _ **are**_ _gone._

Alice cried out once more as she realized heat was licking up the back of her legs. Turning she saw that she was afire.

Frantcally looking for an escape, Alice sighted a small clearing just outside the woods. She changed direction swiftly, bursting through the flames and praying she would not light up in her desperate flee.

With bated breath and a racing heart, Alice made it out of the burning ashes of Witzend and the Hightopp clan. She dropped to the ground, picking up fistfuls of dirt to extinguish her skirts. She had not been able to put out the flame before it burned the back of her calf, however, and she hissed as the dirt hit the open wound.

"Stayne!" The whining command of Iracebeth rang out in the quiet air, the crackling of flames was the only sound left; the sounds of screaming had been silenced.

Alice scrambled behind a bush, concealing herself as she watched Stayne lead his horse into the dying flames, taking in hand the Vorpal blade, his horse rearing in victory.

"It's time to return home," Iracebeth told her knave. She was curled atop the claw of the Jabberwock, her arm wrapped about its scaly leg. "You did well, my pet." She patted the creature's leg fondly, placing a sweet kiss on the curve of its shin.

Alice watched as the card guards followed the knave away from Witzend and north toward Salazen Grum.

Reaching into her pocket, Alice took hold of the sphere, her fingers wrapping around the warm metal. She deployed the vessel for a fourth time, staggering aboard to make her way across the Oceans of Time.

 _Faldifal_ , Alice remembered. _That was the day I knocked Humpty Dumpty over. That was the day I left Tarrant behind in the hopes of saving his family._

Alice sped forward in the future, wincing against the pain in her leg, as she raced toward where she had left Tarrant, on the verge of sanity and death.

She only prayed she wasn't too late.


	6. Part VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scottish Gaelic terms:
> 
> mhic: my son
> 
> athair: father
> 
> Geallaim duit: I assure you.
> 
> As always, all reviews and kudos and favorites are appreciated. I hope you are enjoying this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I have four chapters left and there are two weeks until the movie fully releases. My, how Time has flown (though I'm sure he doesn't appreciate it).
> 
> Don't forget to check out my Mad Sort of Love stories- they're what I originally penned before I knew Alice Through the Looking Glass was going to be a thing.
> 
> Until next week!
> 
> Fairfarren,
> 
> Lydia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a long one, I'll warn you guys of that at the start!

Time glared at the Hatter at the end of the table, wondering why Alice was so intent on saving _this_ Underlandian, who was turning out to be nothing but a right pain in his cogs. The three lunatics had taken to cracking jokes at the entity, no longer fearing his threats. Time grimaced as his blue eyes narrowed, bowing beneath the insults thrown about the table.

"Come, come, come." Tarrant spoke, his hand waving Time toward him. "Come sit by my side; I have many questions which I should like to ponder and it's been so very long since I've had a visitor."

"Yeah!" The hare nodded enthusiastically as he looked to the chair beside him. "No' been very meny visitors since teh Re' Qween!"

"The Red Queen?" Time repeated, his head cocking as he looked down the table at the Hatter. _When had he arrived?_

"Certainly, you must know, being Time and all," Tarrant quickly adapted a nonchalant demeanor as he picked up a tea spoon, waving it about as he gesticulated and stirred the tepid liquid in his cup. "Iracebeth of Crims has sent her sister, Mirana of Marmoreal into exile. Some nonsense about her being a traitorous little tart," his green eyes, never focusing, landed on Time. "So we are now under the power of the Red Queen."

"It cannot be so bad," Time shrugged, wincing as he felt the slap from Iracebeth on his cheek once more.

"Hmmm," Tarrant's eyes shifted to meet Mally's surreptitiously once again. "Of course you would be privileged to know in all the ways we are not. Especially us being subjects of the White Queen before this."

 _I have no doubt that it was the White Queen who gave that impertinent kindergartener access to my castle and my Chronosphere._ Time pondered maliciously. "Nevertheless," he stood, his thumbs tucking into the metal of his belt as he walked casually to join the Hatter near the head of the table. "I am sure she doesn't release annoying, purloining, insolent little yellow haired girls to go after things that would be best left alone."

Tarrant's eyes narrowed as he met Time's, his smile collapsing into a hard line. "Perhaps she wouldn't, but she certainly loves to make heads roll. And descend horrid beasties on unsuspecting villagers." Tarrant responded, his hands flying to either side of his head as his demeanor quickly changed, a grin once again gracing his red mouth. "But it is not Time to focus on that," he smiled. "I am sure you'd rather not be wasted, your eternalness. Besides, I have my own questions to ask you."

Time sneered, taking a seat next to the milliner all the same. Alice had been here before, and if Time was just a little more patient, perhaps he would find out where she had gone. "Ask then, you fool," Time responded, his hand resting on the table as he braced himself for idiocy.

"Is it true that you heal all wounds?" Tarrant leaned forward, his lisping voice deep as he posited his question.

Time held a groan in, trying to focus on the mist that was beginning to fill the dark clearing. His brows twisted as he noticed the plants surrounding the entire clear patch had indeed all wilted, their colors bled as they bowed over.

Time tensed as he felt the prodding of the hare's elbow on his right arm, the creature quipping, "Time is on my side!"

"Why is it that you wait for no man?" The Hatter asked, a twinkling knowing in his eye. Time had a feeling that the milliner was at the head of these lunatics. No doubt he was also leading some other form of madness. Perhaps it was why Alice had such preference for him.

The small pattering of feet echoed across the table as the dormouse hopped from her stack of books. She wandered across the lace doilies and frayed table cloth, her hands covering her eyes. "I just can't find the time," she mused as she stumbled over toward the being.

Time bit his tongue, looking over to the milliner with rage as the man watched on with amused interested. The sound of an evaporating creature filled Time's ears, and he felt soft fur wrap about his neck.

"Tarrant," the deep voice of a cat purred. "I suppose now is not the…Time…" Time saw the cat's amused smile cross his face.

"Chess, where've you been? You're late!" The dormouse demanded. Time saw the milliner stick up his pointed finger and waggle it, signaling the mouse to remain quiet.

 _So there is something afoot_ , the entity wondered, looking from milliner to mouse to hare. _What are these three planning and when have I crashed?_

"Actually," the sound of the cat's voice interrupted Time's thoughts. "I'm right on Time." Time shuddered as the hairs of the cat tickled the back of his neck, his eyes rolling as he was given a fourth imbecile to spare patience for.

The breathless laugh of the hare next to Time grated at his nerves; he looked over to see the creature gleefully tugging his ears as his yellow eyes beamed up cluelessly. Time revoked any feelings of benevolence he had for the hare, instead thinking of ways to punish him and his friends for this lack of respect. This ill treatment.

 _They are killing me!_ Time thought viciously as the laughter filled his ears.

The Hatter grabbed hold of the entity's wrist, picking up his hand and sliding his beneath, letting go of Time to allow the being's hand to cover the milliner's. "I've got Time on my hands!" He punned with an amused chuckle.

This action broke the final bit of patience for Time. He had had enough, he was tired of being murdered, disrespected, disregarded. These dunderheads would pay.

Time knew exactly what he was going to do.

"Do you silly nitwits," he began, his voice strained with impatience, but even he was surprised with how in control he still was. "Not think that I haven't heard these cheap barbs before?" He was ashamed to admit that there was a 'before'. _I'll have to set Wilkins to work on solidifying the terror of my reputation._ The being mused as he watched the milliner stand, gleeful joy falling from his features as calculated countenance crossed his face. "Your attempts at mockery fall flat."

Time glared at the trio for a moment, setting his dark features in an effort to appear intimidating and vengeful. All stood still for a moment, the Hatter pausing behind the being, the hare and the mouse ceasing in their game of tossing food at one another, to look back at the deity with wide eyes.

Until the Hatter grabbed hold of either side of Time's cloak, waving his enormous shoulder pads playfully.

"Look, look!" His voice was once again filled with amusement. "Time is flying."

"Enough!" Time cried out, standing. He winced as the sound of whipping electricity filled the air. He struggled to stay standing as his chest burned, his breathing ragged as his flaring emotions demanded too much energy.

The dormouse fell back on the table, clanking into a teapot behind her. The hare fell to the worn Persian rug beneath the table, his arm raising up to protect his face. The milliner took several steps back, his mouth falling into a shocked oval. It had taken an overwhelming amount of rage, but he had succeeded in garnering their attentions and reigniting their reverence.

"No more wasting me!" Time turned on the milliner, whose face was set with a peculiar glare.

"I'm having the time of my life," he replied with a harsher voice, his eyes flashing orange as he looked at the entity. When he saw that the being was not going to be quelled, the man begrudgingly took a seat.

Time could feel the gears of his head begin to grind, popping and cracking with broken circuits. The blue electricity lighted the increasingly darkening clearing. Tarrant glared up at the man from his seat.

Time returned the cruel look with his own, his vision dimming as he set his pink mouth. Though he was struggling to stay upright, to hold such a face, to generate such emotion, he would not be mocked. And he certainly would not leave without an answer as to where Alice had scurried off to.

He had been kind and patient and generous so far. It had not worked. Clearly these nutters needed to be taught a lesson.

Time hoped he had enough energy and spark on hand to carry through with his plan.

* * *

Alice hurried out of the Chronosphere when it landed just outside the stone circle. Hissing as she ran, her seared skin pulling tight with every foot fall, she raced up the steep incline toward Tarrant's house. The sun was shining brightly on the hill top, the waterfalls beyond adding to the serene atmosphere. Alice only hoped that perhaps she had done just enough, had done _something_ to fix the past.

"Tarrant!" She cried out as she hurried up the worn steps, seeing that the lights in the house were dim. Flying open the door, she stopped in the foyer, her head swiveling back and forth trying to find where he had gone to.

The sound of weeping and sniffling caused her to tilt her head upwards, her gaze winding up the spiraling staircase until she could just make out the end of Mirana's dress at the top of the landing. "Tarrant!" Alice cried, hurrying up the stairs to join the throng of mourners.

 _Oh I've come too late!_ Alice felt her heart sink into her chest, tears welling in her own green eyes as she beheld her morose looking friends.

The stairs led her to the second floor, where lay Tarrant in a teal painted wooden poster bed, buried beneath a colorful and worn patchwork quilt. He was white as a ghost, his hair, white and limp, pressed against the pillows. His eyes were closed and near black in areas that had once been brimming with the pinks and blues and purples of life. His hands were folded over his stomach, his arms laying limply over the blankets. Alice could not tell if his chest was rising and falling with breath beneath the white nightshirt and blankets.

The Tweedles stood on the side of the bed where Alice was, their tear filled brown eyes looking up to her as their small mouths turned down in unison. They waddled lethargically to the side, allowing Alice room to step toward the bed, her hand reaching out to find leverage on the teal bedpost.

The March Hare was sitting on a chair on the other side of the bed, his ears drooping at his sides as his head hung low. His eyes were focused on the cracked tea cup in his paws, his mouth hanging open but speechless as he sat incredibly still. The Hatter's other tea party companion, Mally, stood on the Hatter's nightstand, faithfully close to her friend even at the end.

Bayard stood on the opposite side of the bed, his hound face resting sadly on the quilts, his eyes darting from his sick friend to the blonde girl before him. His ears hung by his head and his tail was tucked between his legs.

Sitting on the bed, right beside the milliner, was McTwisp, who held a stethoscope in hand. His white ears perked as he listened intently to the earphones tucked into the crevices of his head, his paw shaking as he pressed the oval end to the Hatter's chest. He shook his head lightly, his head bowing as he stepped back from the Hatter.

Mirana stood between Thackery's chair and Bayard, her face pinked with emotion. Her hands were folded before her body elegantly, but when she met Alice's gaze, the blonde could see the red eyes and makeup streaked tears of the Queen. She sniffed and smiled sadly as she addressed the newcomer.

"We fear you are too late," Mirana's voice was thick with emotion.

Alice felt her temper swell as she looked at the queen. There was a look of utter disappointment on the monarch's face as her dark mouth closed into a hard line. _I fear as if you are part of the problem!_ Alice wanted to scream, but bit her tongue instead. Citing Mirana for her crime of encouraging infidelity would do little good to help the situation. There was little Alice could do about that fact at the moment anyways.

Alice ignored the woman, pressing past the Tweedles to sit on the bed beside her dear friend. McTwisp scurried from the covers, leaving the woman to sit with the comatose milliner.

Alice took the man's hand in her own as she sidled close, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked down at him. As she neared she saw that several strands of his snowy hair were indeed still streaked orange, she only noticed as several more bled of their color and turned to a pure white.

"He's fading away," Mally explained, her small voice thick with tears. "I can't bear to see him like this," the loyal friend waved her hand in a goodbye motion, turning with her fist tucked to her chest. The mouse went to stand on the bloodhound's head, her face turning away from the ill Hatter.

"Come, Mally," Bayard turned, his eyes looking to the blonde before he followed the others that were making their way out of the room. "Say your goodbyes, Alice."

Alice watched as her friends left the room, none of them wishing to stay to watch their friend fade off into the oblivion. Alice increased her grasp on the milliner's hand, her head turning back to look at him.

She saw a few more strands bleach away, his breathing whistling as he slowly started to slip. Alice shook her head. _How?_ She wondered. _How can I say goodbye to him? I cannot bear to_.

She squeezed her eyes shut, sending rivulets of tears down her round cheeks. She pressed her forehead to their joined hands, wishing him to awaken.

"Tarrant," she began, swallowing the aching swell of sorrow in her throat. "Tarrant, please. _Please wake up_." She begged. "Tarrant, Tarrant, please. Please just wake up." She let go of his hand to shake him vigorously.

Alice sat up, looking for anything that might be used to stir him to consciousness. She set to searching the desk at her side of the bed for a pitcher of water or something to arouse him, finding only the small blue hat that sat in its glass box. She took the small creation in hand, turning back to the milliner.

"I know what this means now," she looked down at the blue hat, understanding it was everything that Tarrant had wanted from his father. Knowledge, approval, love. "You made it for your father when you were young," Alice returned to recline next to the Hatter, her head canted up to look at him. "A token of your love which you thought he threw away. But he kept it. He kept it all those years," Alice's empty hand reached forward to grab hold of Tarrant's wrist. "He _kept it_." Alice's head hung. "He kept it because you did make him proud."

There was nothing she could tell him that would make him reawaken. She couldn't give him promises that his family was alive. She couldn't comfort him with the fact that a search around Underland would produce the people he missed most.

It certainly would do no good to tell him that if he disappeared at this moment, if he left her now, she would miss him most.

"I'm so sorry," Alice was nearly breathless as she tucked the hat into his folded hands. "Once upon a time I thought you were impossible. I thought you were a dream." Alice looked at his stained fingers, observed the few that were capped with thimbles, the ever-bandaged thumb. She felt tears renew in her murky eyes, her gaze searching his hands. "I want to believe you, I want to tell you that I was wrong, that your family is alive. But I cannot lie to you, Tarrant," Alice sat up, her head bowing as she closed her eyes.

Alice leaned forward, her face wavering inches over his head, her throat burning with unshed tears. "I wish I didn't have to say this," she whispered into his white hair. "I wish I could have become the family you needed. I wish we could have been enough." She tilted her head to place a kiss on his white forehead as she placed her hands over his. "I wish I could have believed in you from the start. And now I've lost you all over again. Good bye, Tarrant." Alice kissed his cheek before settling back on the bed.

She folded her arms over his body, her face tucked into her elbow as she began to weep for her lost friend.

Alice felt a stirring, the weight of a hand pressing on the back of her head. She turned her head, peering up past the swell of her arm to see that Tarrant had stirred, his eyes were open and a faint orange glowed in them as he looked down on her.

"You believe in me?" His voice was thick and tight with nonuse.

"I will always believe in you," Alice looked up. "I promise."

Tarrant's mouth fell open in joyous disbelief, his breath returning to his body as he sat up. He looked at the hat she had placed in his hand, looked back at her with eyes that bloomed green. Emerald pools that watched her face in awe. His lips were darkening, his hair perking up as he continued to awaken.

"It's you, isn't it?" His whisper was thick, his voice low. "I'd know you anywhere."

Alice felt her heart alight with joy at that phrase. She knew what it had meant the first time. He was the only one who believed in her, who knew she was the right Alice. She felt her mouth expand into a Cheshire-worthy smile as her eyes watched him. She leaned back as he shifted towards her, his face inches from hers.

"Yeh're Ahlice," he burred, his gat toothed smile crossing his face. Relief flooded the woman's body and she enveloped her friend in a hug.

"Oh Tarrant," she whispered into her dear friend's chest. "I've missed you so much."

"So have I, dear," his strained lisp assured her. Alice pulled from him, her hands still on his shoulders. "Why didn't you come back? I called and I called you, and you never came back." His smile fell as he searched her face.

"Oh, Tarrant," Alice hung her head. "I am sorry, I am so sorry. I've been away, at sea, discovering China. I became a ship's captain and I sailed the seas of Asia. I met so many people and did so many incredible things."

"And you forgot about us," Tarrant looked down at the blue hat in his hands. "You forgot about me."

"I didn't," she shook her head, her hands squeezing his shoulders. "I remembered you every moment I shut my eyes. I recalled Mally and Thackery when I tasted the teas of China, fresh and sweet. I remembered McTwisp when I was helping navigate and set our course. Late— just like I've always been." Alice tried to smile congenially. "I remembered Mirana when I was standing before the Dowager Princess, wearing these clothes," she indicated to the silks she wore, ruined and singed in the fire. "I remembered Bayard when I met the strange dogs of the street. I remembered even Iracebeth when I watched the dancing dragons face off against the warriors in the street plays." She leaned closer to him. "And I remembered you every time I wish I had someone to share all of this with, someone who understood. Who would have fought me for the most ornate tea cup, who would have reminded me on the darkest and coldest of nights that I needed to be just a little bit muchier, who would have stood beside me as I stood before the Princess, kept my voice from shaking, who would have laughed as the mighty warrior defeated the slinking dragon," her hand slipped down his arm to knot in his fingers. "Who would have made sure I picked the best hat possible for the festival. I knew you would have done all of that with me."

"And now you've come back," he said, his eyes watching her.

"Now I have come back," Alice nodded.

"And you smell of soot and fire and fear," Tarrant's hand reached up to cup her face.

"I returned and I saw that you had not experienced all of China with me. That you were so very ill," Alice felt tears refresh at the thought. "So I am trying to make it all right. I am trying to do the impossible. I went back to the Horunvendush Day…well before that I went back to several other days and I…I tried to stop the Jabberwocky. I tried to save your family. But I'm afraid I haven't been successful so far." She tried to explain.

"It's a wonder you didn't get burned alive either," his arms wrapped about her waist as he looked down at her. "You sound as if you aren't done yet, Alice," Tarrant's eyes narrowed.

"I'm not," Alice hung her head. "I am hoping that perhaps I can still stop Iracebeth. I have one more idea. But I am not sure your parents will listen to me. Or rather your father, I should say."

"You are the Alice my mother spoke of, aren't you?" His smiled playfully.

"I'm afraid so, and your father didn't take too kindly to it."

Tarrant shook his head, his hands splaying along the curve of her back. "I wouldn't take that too personally. If you've had the privilege of meeting him, you'd know he isn't into ghosties and beasties and things that go bump in the night."

"I'm sorry, Tarrant," Alice took the hat in hand. It had fallen among the sheets between the two. "I am sorry for how strict he was toward you."

"You don't need to apologize, Alice," Tarrant shook his head. "I remember meeting you, once. And you told me good advice. I took it."

"You said that to me before," Alice mused, "When you let me into the castle."

"Our paths always seem to cross, isn't that right, dear one?" His gaze glowed green as he looked to Alice. His face was inches from hers, sneaking closer as the two spoke in the quietness of the room.

"You seem to meddle when I have the least want of you," Alice wrinkled her nose. "Until I realize that it's when I need you the most."

Alice felt his breath on her lips, her eyes fluttering closed as she could smell the sharp scent of mercury and tea and sweets.

Her fingers curled about the white arms of his night shirt as he pressed impossibly close, his nose touching hers. And for the briefest of moments, their mouths met. Alice felt a tear slip down her face as he kissed her, his touch light and warm.

It was over as soon as it had begun. She cleared her throat as she watched his hair begin to fill with its red hue, the dark shadows of his face alighting with color, the contours of his cheeks pinkening once more. He smiled at her, his green eyes warm as he took her in.

"I am afraid that the Red Queen isn't entirely vanquished, either," Alice sighed, turning from him as he stood. "You see, in order to go back to try to save your family, I had to borrow something," Alice stood, reaching into her skirt pocket. She pulled from its depths the Chronosphere, presenting the metal object that sat in her hand. "I fear that Iracebeth is in want of it. I also have Time on my heels and he's very unhappy with what I've done. I fear I must place this back soon, but I want to try once more, Tarrant, to make it right."

Tarrant stood from the bed, his joints cracking as he took his place before Alice. He looked down at her hand, his mouth twisting into a wry grin. "I assume the bluddy begh hed 'as nuthin' bu' truble up 'er sleeve."

"She also has Time wrapped about her finger. And he's stuck somewhere. He tried to take this from me. Well, I supposed take it _back_." Alice hung her head, realizing what Hamish meant about her carelessness. "I'm afraid I took it against his wishes."

"That was what Time was looking for," Tarrant mused as he studied the tool in her hand. "I thought he was merely wishing to find you to take you back to the Red Queen."

"Pardon?" Alice asked.

Tarrant shook his head. "Nothing," he assured her. "I'm afraid we both acted rashly on the behalf of the other. It had me stuck a tea table."

"And I'm afraid I'm going to ruin all of Underland," Alice wilted.

"Well, we certainly can't have that. Let us go, my dear girl," he paused as he looked down at his clothes and then to hers. "Well, after we've cleaned up a little."

"I'm afraid I need to speak with Mirana about getting some ointment," Alice confessed, twisting her calf and raising the ruined bit of her skirt to reveal her angry raw burn.

"Hmm," Tarrant examined the injury. "I'm happy to say I may have a cure for that. And I suppose I'll have to craft something for you." He mused as he looked Alice over.

"I'm sorry to be burden," Alice apologized.

"Nay," Tarrant shook his head. "Besides, making something ought to put me in the right spirit. Come, Alice," he took her by the hand. "I'll fetch you a house coat you can have until I've prepared something perfect. And I'll put the kettle on as I work."

Alice squeezed his hand, causing him to pause and look back at her. "I'm glad you are back," Alice offered.

"And I'm glad to have my Alice." He returned the compliment, turning once more to lead her down the stairs and to the kitchens and his work station.

* * *

Time stared down the lunatics, his blue eyes narrowing as he tried one last time to glean the information he needed. "When is she coming?" He demanded.

He watched the Hatter's eyes narrow, his green gaze slipping to Mally who was perched behind a tea cup now, using it as a shield. A sly smile crossed his mouth as he crossed his legs one over the other.

"Well," the Hatter mused as he looked at the man. "I'm afraid you might have missed her. You see, she's already come and gone. Though I don't see how the little creature could certainly pose such a threat to you." The Hatter's mouth curled into a proud grin. "I've invited her back, if she can behave herself next time, the naughty little hot headed tempestuous tyke she is."

 _So I am at the moment between Alices_. Time groaned, his eyes shutting as his anger grew.

"I'm afraid I never said she was coming, old being," he responded. "I merely said I had invited her."

The creatures at his side started laughing, Time grating against their insolence.

"Very clever!" The March Hare chimed in.

Time nodded his head, raising his hands. "Well played sir," he clapped lightly. "Well played." He watched as the milliner blushed under the praise. _Oh, but you think you have bested me. You invited Alice to tea, I'm afraid you will be stuck waiting for her until she does indeed come again._

"Thank you," Tarrant burred, sitting up to look at the being before him.

"You were asking me before when 'soon' is," Time glared down at the man, his hands gesticulating in circles as he tried to explain when exactly soon was coming. "Let me try to explain when is now," Time grabbed hold of his cloak, bearing his broken chest.

The tea party attendees all gasped at the sight of the shattered and sparking clock that lay on his breastbone, looking to one another with shaking heads. Time sparked amongst the growing fog and deepening darkness, increasing the misery of the scene before him,

"Now is exactly one minute 'til the end of tea time," Time mused as he looked at the milliner. "And until the young Alice returns, it will always be tea time."

Time felt his chest sparking as he incurred the curse, the clocks about the clearing agree that tea time would never be over until Alice joined the milliner once more. "For you, my dear Hatter, you will be stuck here until Alice returns. And anyone who dares enter will be forced to observe tea time no matter what time of day or night they stumble in from."

Tarrant frowned at the being, his thick eyebrows crossing on his forehead. Time smiled victoriously. "Enjoy the present," he added before turning and leaving the party of lunatics behind to access the damage to his machine.

"Time to go!" Thackery sang as he watched Time turn his back and return to his damaged ship.

"I must get the Chronosphere back," the Hatter could hear Time mutter as he hoisted his vessel. "She cannot be far away!"

Tarrant let out a sigh as Time turned his back, glad the deity had left the trio to be. It was bad enough they were kept to the tables, after upsetting Iracebeth with their…performance…at her behest. Besides, it wouldn't do that little Alice girl any good to be mixed up with this old being.

Especially if she did indeed grow up to be that big Alice that he had encountered a time or two of his own in the past.

Tarrant watched as the being went to fetch the contraption he had crashed into the clearing, the machine sparking and spitting fumes as he lifted it from among the dead flowers.

Everything had faded since _she_ had taken charge. In fact, the only thing that had changed was when that wee blonde girl was here. _Alice_ , he thought affectionately. The girl who tipped the scales. He had remembered being at her trial and the way Iracebeth had been all red faced.

Even King Philip had cowed under her command.

And how she had wanted that precious little girl's head.

Tarrant shook the thought away, turning to his friends. Mally had been right earlier when she had scolded Chess for being late. He was supposed to have met them around the moment Time was still at their table to talk about the resistance. The revolution had been Tarrant's idea; after seeing that blonde little girl best the Queen he figured it would be beneficial for her to return and perhaps end Iracebeth's reign. Chess and his ability to flit here and there made him the most convenient of messengers.

"What a curious chap," Tarrant mused to his friends, a smile crossing his red lips. He assured himself that the being was flying away clumsily in his contraption, not trusting the entity's benevolence toward the Red Queen. "Well, we must be off to find McTwisp. I'm hoping to recruit him to find Alice."

"You are putting a lot of hope in a skittish rabbit," Mally shook her head disapprovingly, but she lowered her tea cup shield.

"Well, we only have so many we can trust in the resistance against her bluddy begh hed," Tarrant responded, standing and casually strolling toward the main path through the Tulgey Woods. When he reached the end of the carpet, however, he found that he was unable to continue further. It was as if an invisible wall kept him from proceeding forward.

"What?" He wondered, trying to drive his hand through the barrier, but only finding that the force jarred his arm and sent him flying backwards.

Mally hopped down the table and joined his side, easily passing from the Persian rug to the grass beyond. She cocked her head as she looked up at her friend.

"Try again!" She encouraged.

Tarrant did so, trying once more to move past the rug and toward the woods, only to be stopped.

Thackery picked up his watch from the midst of his tea, gleefully shouting, "It's near end for tea time!"

He watched the seconds tick round the clock…only for the hands to wind backwards to four.

"What in Underland?" Mally gasped.

"Et's tea time again," Thackery chimed happily.

Tarrant sighed. "It appears," he tried once more in vain to pass the carpet boundary with no success. "That I have been stuck here obliged to stay until the end of tea time. Which, is to eternally repeat."

"Tea time forever!" Thackery cried out in disbelief.

"For me at the very least," Tarrant grimaced, looking to the woods beyond. "At least until Alice gets back. Which means I need you, Mally, to be my messenger." He turned to the mouse.

She stood stalk straight, her eyes narrowing in determination. "What can I do?"

"I need you to fetch McTwisp and Chess," Tarrant looked back to the table. "We've been looking for a headquarters and it appears it's been given to us."

Mally shook her head. "It's probably only because he just left. He's playing a jest on us."

Tarrant's attentions returned to the woods. He shook his head. "I don't think that's the case. I think I vexed the being and he's playing his revenge out on me. Never mind, though," Tarrant shook his thick waves. "It's only until Alice returns, which means we must double our efforts to coax her back. It shouldn't be too long before she falls down a rabbit hole or wanders through a looking glass, the precocious child. Now, run along, Mally," he shooed the mouse.

"Right fine," she hopped forward, turning to look back at him. "McTwisp and Chess?"

"And anyone else they think might be helpful. We all know that troublesome caterpillar won't leave his mushroom to speak with us. Though that Oraculum of his might be helpful," Tarrant answered her.

"I'll be back in a flash," Mally promised.

"Take your time, don't raise suspicions. Mirana and Underland count on us being coy," Tarrant responded, turning to Thackery. "Seems it's just you and me for now, chap."

"Scone!" Thackery's short attention turned the pastries before him.

"So there are," Tarrant snatched one in his hand. "I suppose I should get used to these." He tucked one into his waistcoat pocket wistfully.

 _First my village demolished, then my life cursed? Please, Alice, you must return soon._ Tarrant pleaded to deaf ears before settling in his seat.

He might as well get used to the chair; it would be his permanent perch as he desperately waited for that wonderful Alice to come bounding over the hill once again.

* * *

Alice finished pulling her hair back from her face as she stood before Tarrant. He had provided her with a pair of gray harem pants he had fashioned out of some grey tartan fabric. He had carefully cut her a salmon pink shirt and fixed one of his outercoats into a black waistcoat with long tails for her. Buttoning one of the straps that came loose, Alice gave herself a determined nod in the looking glass beside her before turning her attentions back to the milliner.

"So we want to return to Toomalee?" Alice asked.

Tarrant nodded as he picked some lint from his handsome blue outer coat. "That was the day the Red Queen was crowned. Or, was supposed to be." Tarrant shook his head, trying to straighten his thoughts.

"You know this is dangerous," Alice posited, her arms crossing before her. "If you see your old self then the universe could implode." She waved her hand and shook her head. "Or something like that; Mirana wasn't specific on the details."

"Alice," Tarrant placed his hands on her shoulders. "If there is a chance my family survived, then I have to take it. And I know my father would not let you near my mother again, so it's the best chance I have."

"Fine," Alice sighed. "If you understand the dangers and want to go all the same, then I certainly cannot stop you."

"Thank you," Tarrant answered earnestly.

Alice reached into the pocket of the pants, taking hold of the Chronosphere in hand. "I'm afraid I don't think I can roll this out into your house, so we'd best try it on the front garden."

"Do you think we should tell the others I'm alright?" Tarrant looked out the window to Marmoreal.

"We will be back before they know it, and perhaps they won't even remember. Maybe we can avoid all of this heartache by stopping Iracebeth."

The thought made Tarrant paused, his green eyes sweeping her face. Alice pinked at the gaze, turning from him and heading toward the door. "Is something wrong with that plan?"

"No, no," Tarrant shook his head, hastily following after her. "I was just thinking is all."

As Alice descended the porch stairs, she tossed the Chronosphere to the grass before them. The small orb increased in size, its electric pulses and dancing lightening worsened.

"Well," Alice turned to the Hatter, her hand gesturing toward the Chronosphere.

"Ladies first," Tarrant responded. Alice nodded, jumping into the small vessel. Tarrant crowded behind her.

It was strange sharing the small space with someone, Alice realized. The orb could probably hold four to five travelers, albeit not comfortably. Even with two it was a crowded experience. Though Alice wondered if Tarrant pressed closer to her because he wished so. She could feel his hands wrap about her waist as she pulled the chain, directing the Chronosphere into the air. The hug increased as she pushed the lever forward.

Her body shivered at the touch she had realized she had wanted. Something she had been yearning for since the last moment she had seen him. Shaking her head, she tried to ignore the waves that rippled through her arms, sent pleasurable currents through her body.

 _He had kissed me_ , Alice mused as he could feel his breath on the back of her neck. _Perhaps…_ but she dismissed the thought she knew was brewing without recognizing its existence.

"Hold on," Alice commanded, though with no real reason for it. Tarrant's grip was already assured about her slim waist.

"I will," he promised as she sent the Chronosphere soaring through the skies until it broke the barrier between this moment and the Ocean of Time.

Tarrant's arms loosened about her as he gasped, watching the wavess and memories swirling about his being. He stepped away from her, turning with wonder as he beheld times he knew and those he had only heard about. _This means so much more to him than it will ever mean to me._ Alice realized, as Tarrant had grown up in this land and she only had a stake in a day or two.

"You could go into any of these memories?" Tarrant asked. Alice nodded her head.

"And I would love to take you, but I am afraid that the Chronosphere is losing power and I'd rather not destroy the past, present, or future," Alice responded, remembering what Chess had requested of her.

"I think it would be dangerous anyway," Tarrant decided. "It could be so easy to get stuck in another time. A better day."

"Perhaps," Alice agreed, directing the Chronosphere with growing expertise until the Oraculum indicated that Toomale was fast approaching. "You may want to hold on. Landing is still a bit hard," Alice winced as she directed the orb into the memory.

Tarrant's arms held tight about her, but he made a motion of tucking her into his body instead of holding on. She tried to ignore the creeping thoughts that entered her mind, focusing instead on stopping the Chronosphere.

She landed this time with greater success, quickly jumping from the orb to the grass. Tarrant followed behind her.

"I cannot go into the square," he said as she noticed that people were pouring into the city in huge masses. "I was there, that day, being rather mischievous and late. If you wish to avoid me seeing myself, then I suggest I meet you at the castle for the ceremony." He turned away from her.

"Where are you off to?" Alice asked, hastily following after him.

"I am going to see if perhaps Rhys are Siobhan are home. I arrived the latest today, but my siblings were near as slow as I was." He responded.

Alice wanted to protest, but she wondered if perhaps he merely wanted to see his siblings once more instead of necessarily interacting with them. She reached out to put a comforting hand on his arm.

"Fine," Alice nodded, a warm smile crossing her lips. "I shall meet you at the castle, then?"

"I promise," Tarrant turned, swiftly taking off down the road. Alice heavily sighed, turning in the opposite direction toward the square and ultimately the castle, quickly losing herself in the sea of citizens in fancy dress and eagerly awaiting the crowning of their new queen.

Alice hurried through the square, looking about eagerly for Tyva Hightopp or her wondrous son. She stepped past a market selling meats and greens, looking toward the temporary vendors toward the center of the village. She smiled when she caught sight of a familiar tuft of red hair with an elegant top hat placed atop the wild curls. He was wearing a green coat, so it was not the Tarrant of her time, it was the one of Toomalee. She hurriedly approached, a smile crossing her face.

"Hatter?" She called gently, not wanting to startle him by knowing his name. He seemed enraptured by the bolts of fabric he was examining and did not turn. "Hatter?" She tried once more, placing her head on his shoulder until he spun around.

He had been indeed examining a small spool of fabric, striped red and gold, which he held out before his eyes. He dropped the taught ribbon quickly to see who had interrupted him. His green eyes were the same, but this man was certainly younger. He lacked the haunted look of the Tarrant she had come to know so well.

He was younger still than the Hatter she had met before encountering Mirana and Philip, the one who had helped her. This was the young and naïve and hopeful Tarrant, the one she had been searching for.

"It's you!" She cried out in delight, leaning forward to embrace him in a warm hug. "You're just the one I'm looking for!"

"Well, if I'm not, I wish I was," Tarrant replied gleefully, not returning the hug but not seeming to mind it either. Alice quickly let him go, realizing he did not know who she was and this must be dreadfully inappropriate. She offered him a sweet smile when she stepped back, returning the kindness of his gat-toothed grin. His eyes narrowed as he leaned toward her. "Have we met?"

"Yes!" Alice replied automatically, before catching herself. "Well, no," she corrected her statement, sighing. "I mean, not yet."

"That's funny, I feel I should now you," his eyes continued to squint as if hoping to see her in a new light.

 _He might remember me from when he was young. But it was for such a short time and it was so long ago,_ Alice frowned. "Well, we have met once, when I was younger."

"Oh, well I'm afraid I don't recall," Tarrant shook his head.

"That's because it hasn't happened yet," Alice realized her mistake. This was not a time after her first visit.

"Oh?" Tarrant mused, his thick brows crossing, making Alice's smile larger. This certainly was her hatter, even if he was younger and less experienced. "When will it happen?" He pondered.

"Years from now!" Alice answered enthusiastically. "When you're older."

"I'll meet you when you're younger and I'm older?" He restated her comments, pointing first to her and then to himself. Alice cringed. None of this was coming off the way she intended it to.

"I realize it doesn't make much sense," Alice furrowed her brow, hoping the whimsical nature of Underland would forgive her mix up.

"It makes perfect sense to me," Tarrant responded to her relief. "I'm Tarrant," he held up his hand toward her.

Alice took, it receiving a very energetic shake. "Yes, I know! I'm Alice!"

"Alice," Tarrant mused happily, "you seem to have Time all mixed up." He continued shaking her hand, much past what was acceptable in her society.

"Oh, he's not mixed up at'all," Alice replied with a frown. The expression made Tarrant cock his head in confusion. "I'm afraid he's quite angry with me," she confessed.

She met Tarrant's gaze as he fell silent, his pink mouth hard as he looked at her. She felt her countenance fade until a grin passed his lips. "You're bonkers, aren't you?" He posited before letting go of her hand and passing by the stalls once more, grabbing up ribbons and bows and fabrics.

"That's what I've been told," Alice answered before quickly following after him.

"All the best ones are," Tarrant conceded as he carried on.

"Listen," Alice decided to cut to the chase as Time was not only angry but running out. "I know it may sound strange, but I need to find your family."

"Well you're just in luck," he smiled. "Right this way," he directed her with a pointing finger, before taking the lead himself.

Alice followed obediently, stopping when she noticed he caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see that he had spotted a fully-grown bird like the one he had pulled from his coat sleeves when he was a boy. It was perched upon a low hanging branch, squawking merrily, until Tarrant snuck up behind it and yanked one of its tail feathers from its rear.

The bird gave an indignant squeal and Alice winced in commissary. Tarrant, however, paid the fowl no mind as his hands busily worked before his body. Alice approached him warily, trying to peer over his shoulder, when he turned, startling her. She took a step back and saw that he had in his hand an ornate hat, made from ribbons and bows and morning glories and the feathers of the bird. She smiled with wonder at the beautiful creation he had quickly concocted solely for her. "I mustn't be late," he said as he placed the hat atop her head. "It's a big day for the Hightopps."

Alice nodded her head in understanding as Tarrant finished adjusting his creation. "I really must dash."

"I'm right behind you," Alice answered, following him through the growing crowd to the castle where regal trumpets were playing a tune that clearly signaled it was time to gather.

* * *

The clanging of bells, familiar chimes she knew from childhood, soon filled the air also, the crowd hastily making its way through the doors. Alice had lost track of Tarrant among the growing throng, but she knew she would meet the Hatter of her time somewhere in the growing crowd. She fell behind as the citizens began to pour into the great hall where benches and chairs had been set up for the masses to sit upon while the ceremony took place.

She began to walk towards a bench at the back of the room when someone grabbed her elbow. She turned to see a familiar scarred and stained hand, looking up to find the owner. The Tarrant of her time smiled at her warmly.

"I think it wise not to enter the hall if I don't have to," Tarrant mused as Alice joined him. The two took to peering around the corner into the great hall.

"It's probably a safe idea," Alice nodded. She saw a quizzical look upon his face, her eyebrows twisting in confusion as a response. "What?"

"Is this the hat I really made for you?" He mused as he took the creation from her head. "It's so rudimentary." He tipped and tilted the creation.

"And you were much younger, remember," Alice nudged him playfully. He shook his head.

"No wonder my father wanted me to take my trade more seriously."

"Speaking of which, did you find him?"

Tarrant shook his head. "No, I went to the house, but no one was there." His gaze wandered past Alice toward the dais ahead. "Hush now, everything is about to start!"

A trumpet sounded as a she caught sight of Zanik, who was stepping back from Mirana. He had just crowned with an elegant tiara. Alice observed that she was not dressed in her usual stark white, but wore a dress highlighted with lilacs and lavenders, curls were dyed light purple against her white hair to match. Alice saw that Mirana had jewels pressed to either side of her dark eyes to lighten up her smiling face. The crowd was clapping as the latecomers entered to see the princess crowned.

"Congratulations to our dear Mirana," King Oleron's voice rang out over the cheering, "on your coming of age."

"She was the best loved sister," Tarrant mused. "Especially after the accident," he gestured with his chin toward Iracebeth.

Alice was taken aback to see the grown Red Queen with a normal sized head. She was dressed in pinks and deep crimsons, already taking on her bloody hue even in young adulthood. Her lips were painted red; however, the heart pattern was missing. Her eyes were painted a sky blue and her lashes darkened against her pale skin as her brown eyes blinked rapidly. Her hair was shaped into two buns on either side of her head, the beginnings of a heart taking place, but not fully realized.

Alice nearly gasped when she looked from the hair back to the woman's brow line.

Her face was marred by a horrible gash that twisted and puckered the skin from her hairline across her broken nose to her cheek. The skin was red and inflamed, pulling at one of her thin eyebrows and causing her eye to drop. Alice immediately felt pity for the horror this princess must have suffered.

 _All because of Mirana_. Alice thought sadly.

She then noticed the young man standing off to the right, behind King Oleron. It was Philip, there was no doubt of it. His jawline had hardened since she had truly seen him last in the final years of boyhood. His blue eyes were brilliant against his dark hair and brows. His lips were fully and pink, a hard line on his square face. He was handsome.

And his light eyes were locked on the lavender princess that was shifting pleasantly under the outpouring of love and adoration.

Alice noticed also that a certain young hatter in a green coat was sneaking his way along the side of the room, a top hat removed and used as a poor shield from attracted attention as he neared the front of the stage.

"I thought you told me you weren't going to be late," Alice whispered to her Tarrant.

"Force of habit?" He shrugged before shushing her. She placed her hands on her hips indignantly. "You'll want to see this." He informed her, quelling her attitude.

"And now the heir!" King Oleron's voice rang out.

Alice watched as the young Tarrant proffered a box to his father, tilting the mahogany lid up so that man could fetch what was kept inside.

The man took a small tiara from the box, lifting it gently by its intricate metal sides with white gloves. Young Tarrant entered the throng of redheads who stood of to the side, one Alice recognized immediately as Tyva.

"And now the crown for the Princess Iracebeth, claiming her as next in line for the throne in the event of mine or Queen Elsmere's passing." King Oleron proclaimed. The only clapping filling the room was that of Mirana, who looked out to the crowd sourly as no one joined in.

"Ignorant peasants," Alice could hear the Red Princess sneer as Zanik approached her with the tiara.

Alice looked to Tarrant with wide eyes. His face was set in a hard line as he watched the proceedings of the ceremony from a new perspective.

Zanik approached the princess slowly, his eyes concentrating as he seemed to want to place the tiara at just the right angle. He tried tipping it to the left and then to the right, his fingers shaking as he struggled to please the irascible young woman. The young Tarrant let out a snicker as he watched his father struggle, earning a glare from the young princess instead.

"Quiet!" The harsh whisper of Iracebeth could be heard even from the distance. The young Tarrant tried to quell his laughter, knocking the lip of the open box with his face as he tried to hide behind it. The mahogany lid shut with a great force, filling the already quiet and tense room with a resounding _bang_. All eyes went on the crash, including the stern glare of Zanik.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" Iracebeth raged, her eyes narrowing. "Put it on my head, you're making me look stupid!" She commanded Zanik next. The patriarch did just that, placing the crown on her head.

Zanik stepped away quickly, joining his family off to the side.

"Now that the task is done," King Oleron stood, his arms outstretched as he addressed the disinterested public. "Your future queen has been decided. And with that future queen, so a king has also been chosen for you, my dear Iracebeth."

The room stilled as all waited for the announcement of who was to be their future king. Iracebeth's face lit up with joy as she turned to see her father smile warmly down on her.

"I have chosen a man who has demonstrated great wisdom and character, who will help my daughter rule the kingdom with grace and fairness. Especially when she finds herself unable to due to her health," the king looked sympathetically down at the woman before him.

Alice noticed the shifting of the man behind them, a frown crossing the young noble's face. "I have decided that the Tessellation Prince shall be your future husband," King Oleron turned to usher the young man forward.

Philip balked, however, as his dark brows crossed. He looked to Mirana with an air of confusion dancing about his blue eyes. When he met the princess' gaze Alice saw that he shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm sorry," Philip coughed. "There must be some mistake."

"Certainly not," the king shook his head. "A king your father desired and a king you shall be. Come, and meet your future wife."

"I need a moment," Philip responded before turning and fleeing from the room. Alice flushed as she knew exactly what the young man must be feeling.

"You'll have to excuse your future grace," the king waved away the concern.

"I would run if I had to marry that face too!" One of the peasants in the back cried out.

"That is no way to speak about your future queen," Elsemere stood up, fisting her skirts as she strode forward. "Guards, remove this rabble!"

"We don't want the ugly one!" Another peasant cried out.

"Yeah!" A third joined the protest.

"We want Mirana!"

"Mirana!" The voices shouted. "Give us Mirana."

Alice turned to her Tarrant with a sad frown. "I've no doubt that is what Philip is thinking as well."

"Stop it!" Iracebeth screamed, jumping from her chair. The movement sent the tiara flying from her head, crashing to the ground before her. The delicate metal shattered into three large pieces, sending diamonds and rubies and crystals scattering about the floor. Iracebeth looked on with disbelief. "Silence!" She shrieked, earning herself that. "The next person who laughs shall never laugh again!"

"Iracebeth," her mother hurried to her side, "please darling, try to be sensible."

"No!" She shouted.

"The only sensible thing to do would be to cover that face!" A voice cried out.

"Yeah, it's cruelty for us to look at it!"

Further cries of Queen Mirana filled the sanctuary.

Alice watched as Iracebeth's face reddened, her dark eyes filling with tears. She turned on her sister with barred teeth, her eyes narrowing. "I hate you," she seethed. The sentiment quelled the growing dissention in the crowd. "I hate you all!" She turned to the crowd, her finger pointing as she turned a brilliant red. "And I shall burn Witzend if that is what I shall have to do to be rid of each and every one of you. Especially if you are my sister's favorites," her gaze turned pointedly toward the small Hightopp family.

Iracebeth stormed off toward the opposite side of the dais, clearly seeking escape. Mirana stood quickly, going after her sister as her parents remained frozen in shock. "Racey," the young princess cried out.

"Oh, don't 'Racey' me!" The woman turned on her sister, her cheeks growing more red by the moment. "You started it!" She approached her sister, her dark eyes narrowing. "Why can't you just tell the truth? Why can't you just be honest? Why can't you just let me have my king?"

Mirana looked on with a clearly helpless look, her dark eyes searching her sister as her dark mouth turned into a frown. "Racey, I— "

"I didn't think so," Iracebeth turned, hot tears pouring down her cheeks.

As she continued for the side exit to the hall, Iracebeth fell in a convulsing fit, her arms and legs seizing as she writhed on the floor.

"Iracebeth," Queen Elsemere hurried to her daughter's side.

"It's the fits she had ever since her accident," Alice's Tarrant explained. "They usually happened when she showed great efforts of emotion."

"Please, please, remove her from the stage!" Queen Elsemere commanded several of the card guards who came to the woman's aid.

The chaos settled as Queen Elsemere left with her seizing daughter, hurrying the girl away from the mocking public eye. King Oleron stood at the center of the dais, the vein at the top of his forehead sticking out as he clenched his jaw.

He turned to the crowd with moist eyes, shaking his head as he addressed the audience.

"This is where it all went wrong," Tarrant lisped behind Alice.

 _No, Iracebeth was right_ , Alice mused. _It all went wrong when Mirana did not tell the truth. When she was not honest._

"People of Witzend," King Oleron began, quieting the dissenters and the gossipers alike. "I had hoped that Iracebeth would regain her strength since the day of her fateful accident. As you can see, she still struggles with fits and hysteria. While I trust that Prince Philip will make a decent match for her, I do not see her fit to rule an entire kingdom. And while it pains me to do this, I am unable to bequeath everything over to my youngest seeing as I have a king who will prove fit to rule."

The crowd shifted forward, clearly curious about what the King was so pained to do. Alice turned to Tarrant who stood behind her, a frown still on his red mouth.

"I am dividing Underland into two kingdoms. Mirana will rule from the ancient seat of Marmoreal and will have control of the southern half of the kingdoms. Meaning Witzend will fall under her jurisdiction, as so many of you seem keen on seeing her rule. I'd rather you all not drive my oldest to her breaking point." The king looked harshly down on his subject who let out a celebratory cheer. "As for Iracebeth, she will rule from Crims." He cleared his throat, garnering the unruly crowd's attention. "She will have control of Crims and Queast; not much land to rule, but enough for her to exercise her gift of leadership."

"I'm telling my cousin to move south!" A courtier cried before leaving the room. Alice watched as the attendees stood, all making their way toward the exits.

"We should be going," Tarrant pulled on Alice's sleeve.

"Wait, what's going on between you and your father?" Alice watched as Zanik turned on his son.

"It will give you cause to find the younger me later," Tarrant explained. "I'll leave you to it, but I'll be waiting in the fields of Witzend for you when you've done speaking with me."

"What?" Alice turned to question him further, but saw that he had already left her side. Alice sighed, turning back to the group of hatters before her.

"If you're to be a hatter worthy of the Hightopp name," Zanik glared down on his son. The comment made even Alice wince at its harshness. "You must be sane, sober, disciplined, everything you now are _not_." Zanik's voice was hard and cold.

Alice noticed McTwisp, Mally, and Thackery eavesdropping as well, the three of them gasping silently at the patriarch's harsh critique. It took every bone in Alice's body to not descend upon the man herself. She had been on the opposite side of his anger once before and knew how deep it stung.

"All I did was laugh, father," Tarrant shook his head as he tried to reason with the patriarch. "I couldn't help it, even Rhys was giggling behind me." He gestured to a man who stood a few inches taller than Tarrant, his red hair falling in waves about his pale face. The man sported an insane moustache which stuck out wildly on both sides of his mouth. "Besides, no one takes the Red Princess seriously anyhow."

"I don't care if Rhys cracked a sneeze. He does so without drawing attention to himself like a village play."

"Why am I never good enough for you?" Tarrant asked, his green eyes narrowing at his father.

"Why are you always such a disappointment to me?" Zanik countered back. Alice felt the insult, she took a step back as her mouth dropped open. Young Tarrant responded in a similar manner.

"There, you've said it," he replied once he had regained his countenance. "Well, if I'm such a disappointment," Tarrant was fighting back tears that could be readily heard in his voice, his eyes blinking quickly to keep them from escaping. "I don't suppose you'll be sorry if I leave home."

Alice couldn't see Zanik's response, as his back was turned to her, but she immediately saw Tyva's.

"No, Tarrant!" She cried, her ornately styled red hair falling from its pins as she vigorously shook her head.

"Hat please, mother," Tarrant answered her stoically.

Alice saw that the round faced woman behind Tarrant also seemed upset by the news. Alice wondered if this was the sister Siobhan she had not met, but whom her Tarrant had hoped he would see again.

"Tarrant," Tyva continued to plead with her son as she reluctantly handed his hat over. When she saw he was not willing to listen, she hurried to her husband's side. "Zanik!"

"No!" Alice could hear the man respond, shaking his head.

"Zanik, please, tell 'em teh stay!" Tyva pleaded in her light accent. "Zanik! Please, please!"

Alice watched as Tarrant hurried down the aisle, past the corner she had concealed herself in. His face was resolute, though she could see a small tear slipping down his long face. He did not see her as he passed, clearly in his own world as he tried to deal with the hurt his father had just dealt him.

Alice looked back to see Tyva hanging from her husband's arm and Siobhan's white cheeks flooded with tears. She knew what she had to do. She knew why her Tarrant had told her she would need to go after the younger him.

Quickly Alice pushed off from the wall and hastened after Tarrant who was swiftly walking toward the outskirts of Witzend.

* * *

The older Tarrant made his way through the square, knowing he was in little danger of being sighted by his younger self. Today was not only the day when the Red Princess was chased from the stage, it was also when his father's disapproval chased him from the house.

A day he regretted. Amended but mourned.

Tarrant waited in the square, hoping his parents would pass on their way back to his childhood home. The streets were filling with returned merchants and hopeful customers, citizens bubbling with the news that Mirana would soon be their queen. Hope had been restored anew in the land.

And Tarrant realized just what continuously sparked Iracebeth's anger. It wasn't simply her parent's preference, but the kingdom's as well.

"Tarrant?" A familiar lilt filled his ears, a voice he hadn't heard in years.

"Mother," Tarrant looked up to see her running toward him.

"Oh, Tare, Ah thought you were gone teh meh," she wrapped her arms about her son lovingly. "But you've changed already," she looked at his brilliant blue coat and his black and gray harlequin waistcoat.

"I've changed several times," he answered her wistfully.

"Tare!" Siobhan was quick to his side, her tight curls bouncing as she joined her mother in the embrace. "Elspeth, come quickly!"

Elspeth joined the group hug, her long face filled with a smile as she took hold of her younger brother. "I'm so sorry father said all those terrible things to you." She offered.

Tarrant smiled down nostalgically on the face of his sensible sister. Her brilliant waves were pulled back away from her face, falling in gentle cascades over her shoulders and down her back. Her long face was serious and serene, the opposite of his younger sister, Siobhan. Siobhan had wide brown eyes and pert pink lips. Her smile increased the mood of an entire room, her kaleidoscope gaze was everyone's favorite feature.

"I know he didn't mean it, not truly," Tarrant conceded. "But I'm afraid I can't stay long." Tarrant turned to his mother with a sad smile.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her green eyes searching her son.

"Do you remember that fhàidh?"

"Aye," she nodded her head.

"Well, I am from that woman's time. I am not your Tarrant, I'm afraid."

" _Och_ ," his mother nodded.

"Please," Tarrant took hold of the woman's hands. "Please remember what my dear Alice told you. You need to be wary of the Frabjous Day."

"Do you know, I know little about foreseeing the future," his mother wiggled her hands free to envelope her son's face. "But I am afraid to say that our free will only goes so far. You may have returned to us, but we are ghosts to you, a _mhic_ ," she thumbed his cheeks lovingly. "We may not return to you, but that does not mean we are not proud of you. Even your stubborn _athair_. You are going to be the greatest Hightopp and you are going to honor our name, even if we are not around to witness it." Her hand reached up to brush against the brim of the singed and worn top hat he bored proudly atop his head. "But I want you to promise me this," she dropped her hands to wrap about her son's. "I want you to promise me that even if we are not there for you that you will not give up. That you will not spend your life grieving and looking back. I want you to look forward, toward the future. Towards hope. Promise me."

" _Geallaim duit_ ," Tarrant nodded, though his eyes burned and his throat was tight.

"Guid bairn," his mother patted his cheek. "And take care of that seer for me. Alice?"

"Aye," Tarrant nodded.

"She is one you want to keep around, have her with you for good luck!" His mother squeezed his hand.

"Aye," Tarrant nodded.

"Do yeh want to come back to the house and have some tea before you're on your way?" His mother asked.

"Yes, please do," Elspeth nodded her head, triggered into action.

"Oh, please, even if you're the brother I won't get to know," Siobhan begged.

Tarrant grimaced at the statement. "I'm afraid I can't," he sighed, looking toward the road. "There is someone I need— no, I need to meet my Alice, I mean to say."

He saw his mother's mouth light up with joy. "Aye, that's a good lad. Gae!" She commanded.

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded, taking off through the village. "I promise the old me will be back."

"As Time allows!" His mother shouted. "I'm so happy to have met you, my bonnie bairn."

"The same, màthair," Tarrant waved and turned to take one last look at his mother with her wild red curls, her pink warm smile, and her bright green eyes.

How he would miss her in the nights that were the hardest.

He turned, knowing the truth of what she said. It was time to look forward no matter the outcome, he had those he loved near him.

And one he very much planned on keeping beside him after all was said and done.

* * *

Alice hurried after the young Tarrant, breaking into a run after him having been held back by crowds and carts. The younger Tarrant was headed toward the Tulgey Woods with luggage in his hand. The fact that he had quickly pulled together clothes caused Alice to pause and question how long this fight with his father had gone on.

"Hatter," Alice cried out breathlessly as she began to close the distance between the two. "Tarrant! Hatter, _wait_!"

"I'm no hatter," Tarrant said morosely as she caught up to his stiff gait.

"Of course you are, you're _the_ hatter," she mused as the thought of there being any other. Even seeing Zanik at the helm of the crowing ceremony had seemed odd. "Or, you will be at least, when I knew you."

"You should meet my friend Thackery," Tarrant turned to look at her with amber eyes, his rage still glowing. "He's nearly as mad as you. Won't you join us for some tea."

What Alice once understood to be a compliment seemed to be made in poor taste as he continued, trying to leave her behind. Alice felt her own frustration growing. She knew he was angry at what his father had said, but perhaps he should have behaved more decorously himself.

 _Maybe I should have as well_ , a pang hit Alice as she realized his hurt. She had said similar things to her own mother in her anger, had she not? _Oh, mother,_ Alice wilted, recognizing the damage she herself had wrought back at home. _When I return, I will make things right between us as well._

 _ **When I return**_. The words echoed through her, hollow and empty.

"Hatter, please," Alice reached forward to grab hold of his arm with vigor, turning him to face her, forcing him to take note of her earnest resolve. "You must go back to your family."

Tarrant responded to her command by dropping his suitcase and glaring down at her. "What do you know of my family?" He asked, his amber eyes narrowing.

"They're in danger," Alice returned his stubbornness with her own. "You have to warn them about Horunvendush Day."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Tarrant's shrewd gaze morphed into a haughty look of disdain as he returned to the path once again, turning his back on her. Alice took up his luggage, hurrying after him, her pants whipping in the wind. "But if my father sent you to change my mind, you won't!" Tarrant continued forward, his hands crossed before his waist.

"If you don't go back and reconcile, you'll be sorry, I know you will," Alice continued on doggedly, not allowing him to escape what he and she both knew he must do. _Besides, at least you can go back to your father_ , a pang of grief ripped through Alice's body as she recalled her own.

He would have known just what to say to get Tarrant to turn around and repent, rebuild, and restore.

Tarrant turned, shooting her a mocking glance. "Maybe later," he suggested jokingly, turning away from her.

 _What do I say?_ She wondered. What would Charles Kingsleigh, the man of great importance, the man of resolve, the impossible dreamer, what would he say?

"I lost my father," Alice confessed, recognizing it wasn't what he would say, but what she might be able to say about him. The statement paused the steaming Hatter. "And I miss him every day."

Tarrant turned, seeing the grieved look on her face, realizing that every word she told him was truth. He approached her where she stood on the arch of the bridge that crossed the narrow stream marking the beginning of the Tulgey Woods. His mouth was a red line as his green eyes passed her face.

"If you walk away, you will lose your father too." Alice replied, the growing pain spreading across her chest as sorrow rang anew. Tarrant made a grab for the suitcase, but she increased her grip, her gaze softening as she met his. "It's forever for me, but it doesn't have to be forever for you! You can still get him back and then you'll really be you again. And a hatter just like him!"

The last statement caused Tarrant to grimace, his lips scrunching to reveal a gat-toothed sneer. "The last thing I want," he began, Alice hearing her own voice in those words. "Is to end up like my father."

Alice knew she had lost her cause when Tarrant glowered at her with an amber gaze. She relinquished the suitcase which he took hold of with a hearty yank. She watched helplessly as he turned away from her, returning to the path once more.

"Tarrrant, wait!" Alice cried out once again. "Your family will be lost and you will have done nothing to stop it!" He continued forward without looking back.

"Fine," she resolved. "Be that stubborn."

She felt a third pang of conviction echo through her body.

 _Ever the hasty and impulsive Alice_ , she pondered as she sprinted off toward the fields. _Always saying things without thought._ A flash of her mother entered her mind.

When she reached the field, she saw her Tarrant waiting patiently, leaning against a tree just outside Witzend. His arms were crossed as he stared off into the distance. She saw that his cheeks were stained with tears.

"Are you alright?" Alice asked breathlessly as she slowed down. He turned to look at her, a red smile on his mouth.

"I should ask you much the same," his green gaze swept her. "I take it the conversation with me didn't go as planned, judging by your scowl and your red cheeks."

Alice brushed as her face absently as she shook her head. "You _knew_ it would end disastrously, why did you send me?"

"Because I needed for it to happen, else I wouldn't have been challenged to change my mind. I'm realizing that sometimes we need thing to occur as they were meant to, no matter how painful or uncomfortable they are."

"Did you find your family?"

"My sisters and my mother, yes," Tarrant nodded.

"And?"

"I reminded them. My mother remembered you," Tarrant smiled at her warmly.

"I make an impression even when I don't want to," Alice replied bitterly. "Do you remember anything different about the Horunvendush Day?"

"No," Tarrant shook his head.

"We should go to the day after, just to be sure, maybe it's playing out still!" Alice answered hopefully, sending the Chronosphere flying through the grass and waiting impatiently as it increased in size.

"Alice, I think maybe— " Tarrant's hand went out to stop her, but he fell short.

"Come on, Tarrant, this is our last chance!" She insisted as she watched the Chronosphere spark and shudder.

"Alice, I," Tarrant watched as Alice hopped onto the craft, impatiently waving him to join her.

"Fine," Tarrant conceded, realizing that perhaps he needed this to happen as well. "Off to Grievorrow Day."

He climbed in behind Alice who quickly grabbed hold of the 'Pull Me" and depressed the lever, sending the Chronosphere shooing through the skies. Tarrant held tight to her waist once more, prepared this time for the spectacle of the Oceans of Time he was about to encounter.

He was glad he knew, because he never wanted to let go. Not again.

This was the last time he was going to give up his family. Perhaps Alice had returned not to return him what he had lost, but to present him with what he had found.

They both had been blind; both had been doubters.

She believed in him, now it was his turn to believe in her.


	7. Part VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that it has been a million years since my last update. Life has been super busy. And it'll probably be a million more until my next, as I am planning to participate in NaNoWriMo starting next week, and I am taking 3 college courses for most of that month. I will get this story done, however, as the last three chapters are outlined and just need to be written.
> 
> I hope you enjoy what I've done so far. I was thinking about throwing away the look into the future, but it was a lot of fun to do. And will perhaps have you scratching your heads in a couple chapters :)
> 
> As always, reviews and kudos are always appreciated.

Alice slowed the Chronosphere, her heart sinking in her chest as she directed the sparking orb toward a burned field. She held her breath as the metal sphere settled onto seared grass, crunching softly as dropped its full weight.

She stood frozen, her murky green eyes wide as she beheld the field before her with dismay. _But Tarrant spoke with his family_ , Alice shook her head. _They remembered me, it was supposed to stop all of this._

After several painfully silent moments passed, she turned to look at Tarrant whose face was tight and whose eyes shimmered. "I'm...I'm so sorry, Tarrant," Alice numbed as she pushed past him, her fingers unfeeling as she slid open the door to the Chronosphere and stepped out onto the field.

The grass broke beneath her boots, her steps ringing out in the silence. The birds no longer nested in the charred trees, chased from the outskirts of Witzend by the damage done.

Alice felt tears slip down her face as she scanned the clearing for signs of life. Her gaze only took in the scorched remains of a village, the smell of singed hair and skin still hanging unpleasantly in the air. Ashes lay in piles strewn about on the yellowed grass.

A hand on her shoulder caused her to turn, her eyes blinking as she was brought back to reality from her thoughts. Tears that had been hanging heavy on her lashes were set loose, sliding down her face. His scarred hand reached out to sweep them away, his thumb lingering on the curve of her cheekbone as his green gaze searched her, never settling.

"Alice," he said softly, a tear of his own slipping free.

"I thought," Alice turned back, shaking her head. "I thought that I could have stopped all of this, that I could have changed the past."

"No, Alice," Tarrant shook his head, grabbing hold of her cheek tenderly to return her gaze to his face. "It happened as it was meant to be. You weren't supposed to change the past," Tarrant looked beyond her to the damage he had returned to once in his distant memories. "I don't remember anything different about the Horunvendush Day because I am not supposed to. And that is alright."

"What do you mean?" Alice's eyes widened. "How can you say such a thing? I know that if I could save my father, I would have."

"And your path would have diverged," Tarrant shook his head, softly scolding her. "Alice, if my family had lived, that would have meant I would have had people beside me to fight alongside the Jabberwocky. An entire clan, even a handful of Hightopps, would have been able to secure the Vorpal sword and helped Mirana gain her crown back. There would have been no waiting."

"What do you mean?" Alice looked at him, her skin tingling with the realization of what he meant.

"It would have meant that I would not have been at the tea table when you were little. I would not have been there when you returned. _If_ you returned," he stepped closer to her, taking her hands in his own. "Alice had this not happened, I would not have needed you. Underland might not have needed you."

"And I would have never been brought back," she turned her head away from him, realizing what that could have entailed. "And I might have become Lady Ascot." She shuddered.

"Perhaps," Tarrant shrugged. "Perhaps you would have had sense return. That I cannot say."

"But don't you want them back?" Alice turned to look back at the field.

"Of course I do, Alice. I know I don't have to explain it to you, as I am sure you yearn for you father in much the same way," he tightened his grip about her hands comfortingly. "But it was not meant to be, Alice."

"You cannot change the past," Alice muttered, recalling what Time had said to her. She dropped Tarrant's hands, turning away as she thought about what the deity had said. "But you can learn from it?"

"What was that, Alice?" Tarrant asked, straining to her what she had mumbled.

"Maybe I was meant to have the Chronosphere," she looked down at the shrunken sphere laying in the scarred earth, "because I was meant to fix what was wrong with Iracebeth now. Not what happened to her in the past."

"That would mean we would need to return to the future," Tarrant concluded, bending down to take the Chronosphere in hand.

"Wait," Alice placed her hand over his, stopping him from tossing the metal orb to the ground. "Are we sure that is what we are supposed to do? Maybe we need to go back…"

"Alice," Tarrant stopped her. "We cannot change the past, you yourself just said that. Returning to see my mother, though, I was reminded of how much my father was proud of me. How I did become a Hatter just like him, but with my own style and way. I didn't tell you what had happened after you met the younger me on my way to meet Thackery and Mally, did I?"

"No," Alice shook her head.

"Something you had said to me struck a chord. And while I never apologized to my father about the row we had, I did return to my home. I tried to learn what my father so desperately wanted to teach me," he reached out to grab her hand once more. "Because of the look in your eye when you told me you wish you could have had your father back every day. I had as much pride as my father, and I am ashamed to say that I think I still do. I let myself slip away because I worried that I shrank in his shadow. That I had been abandoned by the ones I loved. When I was blossoming in my own right, when I was surrounded by people who cared." He tilted his head slightly. "Well, almost everyone who cared."

Alice hung her head. "Hatter, I'm so sorry."

"Now is not the Time to dwell on that," he pulled his hand from her, fisting the Chronosphere. "We have to get this back to Time before we end up destroying everything else."

"I'm afraid I've been terribly selfish," Alice frowned, shaking her head. "Hamish was right."

"I hardly believe that," Tarrant paused to look at her with stitched brow.

"He told me I was impulsive and was irresponsible. And he was _right_." Alice winced at the realization. "I also had a row with my mother before I left, because I had forgotten about her in England. She had absolutely nothing while I was striving for everything. She was abandoned while I was on my merry adventures, shewing responsibility and prudence." Her head hung as she confessed to Tarrant her own hubris. "I should have returned when I was meant to, I should have made sure my mother was secure on her own in England. But I was too busy trying to fit into my father's footsteps, making my list of six impossibles," she pressed a hand to her forehead. "He never neglected me or Margaret or Mother. He dreamed his wild fantasies, but he never got so high in the clouds that he left us behind."

"You can still make things right, Alice," Tarrant's lisping voice was soft and reassuring.

"Yes," Alice looked to the orb in his hand. "I think it's about Time that I start doing so."

He returned her determined look with a wild smile of his own, tossing the Chronosphere to the ground before him. The two watched eagerly as the sphere distended.

"Come, Alice," he held out his hand to her. "Let's right some wrongs."

Alice took the proffered hand in response, hurrying behind him to climb into the Chronosphere. Tarrant took the helm as she held tightly to his waist. His steering was jerky as he guided the sphere into the gray skies of Grievorrow and back into the Ocean of Time.

* * *

Time lighted his craft back at his castle, his heart burning as he stumbled off the damaged cart and into the door of his study.

He could hear the Grand Clock ticking in the background, satisfied that Wilkins and the Seconds were able to keep the clock going in his absence. He needed to search for Alice, to force her to return the Chronosphere, but first he needed to rest. The clock face on his chest tinkled as it continued to shatter, laboring his breathing and sapping his energy.

"Wilkins!" He cried weakly, hoping his butler would hear him.

The craftsman entered the room hastily, wringing his hands as was his usual nervous habit. "Y-y-y-yes, sir?" He hopped to attention when he realized he was addressing Time. "You're back!"

"I'm afraid the kindergarten is more elusive than I thought," the deity winced as the small clock on his chest zapped with electricity.

"Oh dear," Wilkins wilted as he looked at his fading master. "What are we to do?"

"I'll go after her, as soon as I've had some rest," Time sank back into his chair, his cheeks colored a sickly gray.

"Having trouble with Alice?" A familiar grating high-pitched voice asked. Wilkins quickly stepped back, his eyebrows crossing as he watched the Red Queen approach.

"I'm just taking a little…break," Time assured her as he slumped uselessly in the chair.

"Why do I trust men to do my biding?" Iracebeth pouted as she gestured for her vegetable servant to enter. She had fashioned her servants out of the foliage and fauna from the mountains of the Outlands. Time watched as the creature, whose head was a radish and whose dress was made from oversized flower petals and tied vines, followed her mistress closely. "You are about as helpful as Stayne was. Which is to stay, of no use at all." Iracebeth turned to look at the plant maiden at her side. "Bind him," she commanded the creature.

The creature nodded her vegetable head, her leaf-like hands raised to take aim at the deity. Time winced as she webbed vines from her hands, the thick plant wrapping about his body and holding him fast. Not that much effort was need to hold him back; he had already lost any strength he had to fight, wasting it on cursing that silly mad milliner.

"What…are you doing?" Time wheezed as he looked the ungrateful queen with crossed eyebrows.

"Alice has too strong a moral compass to not return the Chronosphere once she realizes the damage she has done," Iracebeth's thin eyebrow rose as she looked down on the immortal being. "Which means she will return to this castle to put it back. I intend to be here when she returns."

"The _Chronosphere_?" Time groaned as he felt his arms try to break free of the vines, though he knew that wasting what little energy he had left was useless. "Is that all you wanted from me?"

"No," Iracebeth shook her head, pausing to consider the thought for a moment. "Actually, yes!" She shrugged with a smile. "I'll be back, Tick-Tock, don't worry. But then I shall have the Chronosphere and you shall have to give all of eternity over to me if you wish to save Underland." She giggled maliciously before turning her back on the being.

"Where are you going?" Time demanded.

"I think it only fair that my little sister has the opportunity to watch," Iracebeth turned to look at Time with a cruel grin. "And I'm sure she'll appreciate the surprise."

"Iracebeth!" Time growled. "You are just as cruel as the Hatter said you were."

"Oh, I know," she wrinkled her small nose. "I wasn't sure why it took you so long to figure that out. But I'm glad you have. It's going to make our relationship less complicated. Or maybe even over!" She clasped her hands together gleefully. "We'll talk about those details once I've gotten the Chronosphere from that insufferable girl and had her head served to me on a platter. But I really have to run, Tick Tock! I don't want to be late for the show."

"Iracebeth!"

She paused, addressing him one final time before leaving him bound to his chair. "Do try to stay alive in the mean time. It would be terribly inconvenient if that clock ran out."

"Iracebeth!" Time raged as he watched the woman walk away from him, clicking away nonchalantly on her heeled boots.

* * *

Tarrant steered the Chronosphere forward, his eyes watching the waves as the two passed by. "We're nearly there," Alice said as she caught sight of a memory of she and Absolem talking just before she fell through the door and into the conference of friends. "That's just before I came to see you."

Tarrant pressed the lever forward, skipping along the waves rapidly. Alice grabbed onto his waist tightly, shaking her head as she watched the memories of the early day pass by.

"You're going too fast!" She insisted, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his waistcoat.

"I'm rather curious," he canted his head slightly, so he was able to see her out of the corner of his eye.

"What about?" Alice looked with concern at the popping sparks dancing about the Chronosphere.

"Do you think one can go forward as well?"

"I'm not sure," Alice answered as she clung to him. "I haven't tried it. Besides, aren't we supposed to be returning this to Time?"

"We will," Tarrant assured her. "But I have a sneaking suspicion that once we put the Chronosphere back where it belongs that we shan't have a chance to use it again."

"I suppose if it's between your curiosity or the fate of Underland," Alice replied dryly, but Tarrant's gleefully ignored her.

"It's just a bit of fun, Alice. We won't be more than a moment or two." Tarrant insisted as he drove the Chronosphere forward toward the more turbulent waves ahead.

"Do be careful," Alice insisted as she balked, Tarrant narrowly missing being sucked in by a crashing wave. "These tides are far more dangerous."

"It's the future, Alice, the water hasn't had the time to settle."

"I think you should still be careful— " Alice shouted the last word as Tarrant drove through a swelling future memory, the orb shuddering around them. The creaking sound of the metal put Alice's nerves on edge.

The Chronosphere whistled through the air as Tarrant directed the whirling orb through the clear afternoon day. Alice's fingers dug tightly into his outer coat as he continued to hurtle toward the earth. She ducked her head, her eyes squeezing shut and her limbs bracing as she prepared for a rather unfortunate landing.

Tarrant surprised her, however, by gently setting the sphere down on the soft grass. When the craft had stopped, Alice opened her eyes in wide surprise to see that he had landed with grace instead of crashing, her fingers aching as she released her grip.

"Where are we?" She asked, her head swiveling from side to side as she tried to orient herself.

"Somewhere in the future," Tarrant pushed the lever into place, turning to the opening in the Chronosphere and grandly stepping out. He turned to offer Alice a hand. "This looks a bit like a reformed Witzend." He directed their attention to the walled city before them.

Alice looked up in wonder at multicolored houses that loomed above the creamy brick walls, a majestic castle sitting higher than the abodes at the city's center.

"Do stop it!" The shrill voice of a young girl demanded. Alice looked to the field beside the walls, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of the two children.

The young girl was about six, her blonde hair falling in waves about her shoulders as she chased after her brother. The boy, holding a ragdoll aloft, was the spitting image of the young Tarrant she had met only hours before. His curly ginger hair was dancing as he trotted about, playing keep away with the girl's toy.

"Young man," Tarrant was the first to intercede, stepping toward the two. The children stopped in their steps, looking to the hatter as he approached. The boy reddened, immediately giving the doll over to his sister as he folded his hands behind his back.

"I'm sorry, da," he pleaded, his large green eyes shimmering with tears. "Don't keep me from the parade tomorrow."

Tarrant froze, turning to Alice with a confused look. "I'm afraid you have me mistaken, young man," Tarrant shook his head as he addressed the boy.

"Kenzie took my dolly!" The girl protested, running to Tarrant and throwing her arms about his legs. Tarrant's arms flew up toward his shoulders, his body taut as the young girl clasped him about the shins.

Alice quickly came to her dear friend's side, kneeling in the grass to meet the girl at her level. "I'm sorry, little one, but I think you have us confused for the wrong people."

"Mummy!" The girl concluded after shyly glancing at Alice. She let go of Tarrant's legs and instead through her skinny arms about the blonde woman's neck.

"No, no," Alice shook her head, trying to dislodge the girl's stubborn arms. "I'm afraid you have us a bit mixed up."

"You mean you're not mum?" The boy, Kenzie, looked at her bewildered.

"No," Alice shook her head. "Who might you be?"

"Kenzie Hightopp, m'am," he puffed out his chest, looking proudly at Alice with a beaming smile. Alice felt her heart beat quickly, her body swirling with waves of warmth.

"Do you suppose, young lad, that you'd be able to help us? I'm afraid me and my friend here are a bit lost." Tarrant asked the young man, crossing his arms as he looked down on the small ginger.

The girl still clung to Alice's neck determinedly, pinning Alice in her kneeling position. "And perhaps free me of her?"

"Let her go, Ceri," the boy approached the two and grabbed hold of his sister's arm. "It's not mum." His sister reluctantly let go of Alice, stepping back with a pout and holding her doll possessively to her chest. "Who can I help you find? I know almost everyone in Witzend."

"The Mad Hatter," Tarrant's red mouth lighted with a smile.

"I can certainly help you with that," Kenzie took hold of Tarrant's hand. "He's been down in the village all afternoon."

"No," Ceri shook her blonde waves. "He's in his workshop. Mum said that to you this morning. You were to meet him after the bell struck twelve, and you didn't, and he'll be right upset with you, he will."

"He's in the village, Ceridwen," Kenzie instead, dragging Tarrant forward.

"He's at home," the little girl grabbed hold of Alice's hand.

"How about," Alice looked down at the girl, "you lead me to your house and if he's not there, we will meet my friend and your brother in the village?"

"Fine," she agreed with a reluctant sigh. "But he _knows_ I'm right,"

"Do not!" Kenzie took off running with Tarrant in hand. Alice was jerked forward by her own guide.

"I suppose I'll see you in a moment or so," Tarrant called back to her.

"I hope you know what you've done, Tarrant Hightopp!" Alice shouted over the children's heads as she was dragged forth into a bustling city with only a little blonde girl as her guide.

* * *

"Do you suppose this is a good idea?" McTwisp asked the queen anxiously. The two were standing before the grandfather clock, the monarch looking resolutely at the door to the time piece.

"It must be," Mirana looked at her loyal subject with a determined frown. "If I ask Time for help, I'm sure he can figure out what to do about Tarrant. He is in charge of each person's life-watch, after all. There must be something he can do."

"But you haven't gone down to visit him in years," McTwisp watched the door anxiously, his white paws wringing together as he looked past the glass into the vastness beyond. "And he wasn't too pleased when you returned the last visit, either."

"Well," Mirana's chin rose stubbornly as her dark eyes stared down the golden clock. "As Tarrant would say, there must be a Time to forgive and forget, forget and forgive. Besides, I am not doing this for my own gain, but a dear friend's."

"Are you not going to bring Alice?" He looked to the door which led to this solitary room.

Mirana brushed an absent tear away from her eyes with quick swipes of her fingers. "That girl was too late. This is the job for a queen, not a Champion, I am afraid to say."

"I can go with you," the rabbit trembled as he offered his services.

Mirana looked down to the creature warmly. "Thank you, McTwisp," she shook her head. "But I think it would be best if I went alone."

"Only if you're certain," he nodded his head.

"I am."

Mirana reached forward, her fingers wrapping about the metal handle of the door. Pulling the small portal open, she stepped back in shock, her dark eyes widening. "Iracebeth?"

"Surprise!" Her sister smiled proudly as she stepped out from the door of the clock. Her heels clicked on the chessboard tile as she walked toward her sister. "I was hoping you would be more happy to see me than you are." A look of mock disappointment graced her features.

"You were banished," Mirana's voice was low, a warning.

"And I got myself unbanished," the sister shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "But you do me such a favor to remind me of what you did. It renews my desire to strangle you." Her small eyebrows stitched. Her hand rose, her fingers flicking toward the pair of them. Mirana gasped as she beheld a vegetable woman stepping through the portal and into the room. "Bind her," Iracebeth's voice was tight and unamused.

Mirana tried to turn to flee, but she quickly found her wrists bound in thick vines, her legs hobbled together as she tried to run. She fell to the ground violently, her crown tumbling from her hair and resounding with a _clink_ as it hit the marble floor.

"I will take that," Iracebeth retrieved the headpiece, placing it on her mound of hair once again, settling the metal circle into the shape. "And as for where I'll take you," she turned back to her plant servant. "Put her in Tick-Tock's room. She'll need to see the show before she's banished."

"What?" Mirana struggled against her captor, trying to gain her footing once more.

"Your little Alice is still off and about with the Chronosphere," her sister explained as the plant lady began to drag the White Queen through the door of the clock. "You'll be obliged to join us in our waiting for her before I send you to the Outlands, _little sister_." Iracebeth seethed.

Mirana watched with wide eyes as McTwisp scurried from his hiding spot in the corner and made headway for the door, scurrying quickly around out of the room. But not before glancing back to meet his monarch's gaze; he nodded his head in a promise that he would fetch help.

Mirana continued to struggle as she watched the room grow smaller and dimmer as the plant lady escorted her through the clock's door. Iracebeth followed, a cruel smile on her red lips, shutting the door behind them.

* * *

Alice followed the quick moving blonde girl, dodging men and women in the streets as she held firmly to Ceri's hand. The girl led her through the backstreets toward the center of town, not far from the castle at the center. Alice prayed she'd be able to find her way back; Tarrant and Kenzie had taken off in the opposite direction as soon as the two children had led the adults through the city's gates. She was once again separated from Tarrant and she knew it was only a matter of Time before she would be causing irreconcilable damage with the Chronosphere.

"Here!" Ceri stopped suddenly, pushing Alice from her worried thoughts as the woman struggled with her footing. She looked up to see that the young girl had led her to a haberdashery. A swinging sign advertised this shoppe as "Hightopp's Handsome Hats".

"Thank you," Alice said breathlessly, watching as the girl strode through the blue door with confidence, leaving it ajar behind her.

"Da?!" The girl yelled.

"Cer?" A familiar voice called back.

"Kenzie's in the market. And he stole my doll." The girl continued to have a shouting conversation with the man in the other room. Alice entered the shoppe hesitantly.

This room was akin to the one she had stumbled into behind a young Tarrant. Hats of various shapes, sizes, and colors were displayed on mannequin heads. Bolts of fabric, measuring tape, buttons, and ribbons were hung or kept on shelves. Alice found her head spinning as she tried to take in the dazzling creations on parade around her.

"Did he now?" The voice called back. "And he's very late on top of it all."

"Well, he did return my doll," Ceri cradled the object lovingly in her arms. "But he's still late."

"I'm glad he made the right choice about one thing."

"Oh, also, someone is here looking for." Ceridwen looked up at Alice's marveled expression with an amused grin.

"Who is it, Cer?"

"I don't know," the girl shrugged as she continued to study Alice. "She said she was looking for the Mad Hatter."

"Hello?" Alice shouted after Ceridwen finished.

Footsteps from the other room grew louder. Alice turned to her left to face the doorway, her cheeks flushing as the man stepped into the frame.

He was older, she could see it in the shadows on his face, but he still looked spry and clever and very, very mad. His shocking red hair was unkempt, his head bare as he emerged from what she assumed was his workshop. He was wearing a black and white striped apron, brushing his fingerless gloved hands on the material to wipe away the glue and sweat.

"Alice!" He cried out with joy, striding towards her, his arms outstretched. Alice let herself be encompassed in his embrace. "You certainly aren't my Alice," he looked down at her with happiness in his eyes.

"Not this again," she groaned playfully.

"I do not mean it as an insult this time, dearest," his hands cradled her face gently. "If you were to see yourself today, you'd know why." His thumb brushed along the crest of her cheek. "That must mean you were dragged here by younger me, heady and impulsive and far too curious."

"I'm afraid so," Alice nodded her head.

"Which means there isn't much time," he nodded his head. "It's good to see you, Alice, as you are like this."

"Why?" Alice looked his features over worriedly.

"You're just so young and so very…very Upperlandish and new." He mused as he looked her over. "Did I make this wretched thing for you?"

"Your future self certainly likes to critique your past self," Alice laughed as she brushed his hand away from inspect the seams near her shoulders. "What about me? What about future me?"

"I can't tell you those things, Alice," Tarrant shook his head. He turned to Ceridwen. "Go on, m'bairn, go upstairs and work on your reading. Your mother will be expecting it."

"Yes, da," the girl groaned, huffing before obeying reluctantly. Alice smiled as she heard the girl stomp up the stairs. " _There shouldn't be books without pictures_ ," the girl's voice was barely audible as she whinged.

"So," Alice looked at his hands that enveloped hers. She saw the golden wedding band gracing his left hand. "You married?"

"Aye," he nodded his head.

"And you have children," she said, shifting uncomfortable.

"My wife and I are expecting our fourth one, yes," Tarrant nodded his head.

"I am so happy for you, Tare. That you were able to create your family," Alice blushed nervously, turning from him to inspect a hat and simultaneously hide her disappointment.

"Thank you, Alice," Tarrant added sincerely. "You turned out pretty splendid yourself," he added.

"Did I go back to Upperland? To England?"

"Aye," he nodded his head. Alice turned away from him, taking a shaky breath and holding back tears. "Alice," he stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you upset?"

"I just thought…" Alice turned, looking about the room and feeling a swell of jealousy rise in her chest. "I just thought I would have the sense to stay here."

"Alice, it isn't fair to tell you details," Tarrant's hand slid down her arm to take hold of hers. "But I can tell you that you become the bravest and most daring of women, you are a force to be reckoned with, and you are where you are meant to be."

 _But what if that is here?_ She thought sadly. "Could I…could I meet your wife?"

Tarrant smiled sadly, his free hand cradling her face once more. "I'm afraid that's impossible, Alice."

"Oh," Alice frowned.

The clock on the wall struck one. "And I'm afraid you need to be on your way. To find the younger me."

"Why did you bring us here, Tare?" Alice asked, her heart sinking in her chest.

"Because I have an overwhelming curiosity, dear one," Tarrant smiled affectionately. "When you go out that door, go straight for three blocks and then turn left and then right. You'll find the town square and there you will find me."

"Tare, I don't want to go, not yet," Alice gripped his hand tightly. "I have so many questions. So many things I want to know…"

"And I cannot give you answers, Alice. That would not be fair to present or future you." He twisted free of her grip, turning her about the shoulders and escorting her towards the door. "And if you want to avoid breaking Time and Space now, you'd best be on your way."

"Fine," Alice answered, quickening her steps. "I shall be on my way. But Tare, I have one final question," she paused, her hand frozen on the ornate handle of the door.

"And what would that be, my ever inquisitive darling?"

"Did you ever forget me?" She asked.

A large smile played across his gat-teeth. "Alice, you have made yourself so evident in my life that I would not have the ability even if I wanted to."

Alice nodded her head slowly, then turned back toward the door. "I promise I won't forget you," Alice said before departing.

"Oh, Alice, I assure you I've made it just as hard for you to leave me behind. The gardens of memory and the palace of dreams have made themselves quite ornate with both of our presences."

"Goodbye, Tarrant." Alice frowned.

"Fairfarren, dear one," he answered, watching as she shut the door and turned on her way.

He then looked over to a picture that had been hanging over the door, one that Alice had missed on her way out. There, in black and white echoes of themselves, sat Alice on a chair in front of a beaming Tarrant, her arms holding a baby who slept soundly in her arms. Tarrant sighed contentedly, turning to return to his workshop, waiting impatiently for his wife and sons.

* * *

Tarrant hurried after Kenzie, his hand holding tight to the boy. He dodged women carrying baskets and men walking with canes as the boy led him further into the heart of the city. Tarrant began to recognize the outskirts of the town square of Witzend; it was newer, cleaner, but there was no mistaking the shops and pubs that dwelled not far from the heart of the city. The sounds of merchants and customers buzzed not far ahead.

Kenzie turned to the right sharply, his feet skidding as he avoided colliding with a merchant, who immediately scolded the boy and commanding him to watch where he was running. Kenzie made a hasty apology before turning back to Tarrant.

"The Mad Hatter usually has a stall over in the corner, that's where he was this morning," the boy explained. "He sells some of his wares there, while my mum shops for fabrics. She takes over for the late morning and…"

Tarrant quickly tuned the boy's words out as he beheld the statue at the center of the square. It once had been in the likeness of some old king of Witzend, a man he had learned about in his boring history lessons, but now it was no longer male. In fact, it was in the perfect likeness of his Alice, dressed in armor and holding the Vorpal sword aloft. Tarrant marveled at the static likeness of her wavy hair, now a cream color instead of its rich deep gold. Her brows were twisted in her determined grimace, her pale eyes looking toward the outer wall of Witzend. Tarrant approached to read a plaque commemorating this statue and its honors to "Alice the Champion" who saved Underland from the tyranny of the Red Queen.

"Kenzie!" A sharp voice scolded the boy who stood near the Hatter's side.

Tarrant turned his head to behold Alice, making her way through the crowd toward the boy, a cross looking marring her features.

"Alice?" Tarrant called out, a smile crossing his mouth.

"Tarrant?" Alice's eyes narrowed as she approached the man. She pushed her way through a pair of men haggling over a piece of meat, brushing her skirts as she stood before the hatter and the boy.

"Alice, where did Cer— " Tarrant stopped as he beheld the woman. "You're not my Alice," he looked at her with wide green eyes. This Alice had a bulging middle, signaling she was a month or so from having a bairn, her hand rested gently over the swell of her belly.

This Alice let out a hearty laugh as she approached closer. "I didn't think you were my Tarrant, but now you've proved my suspicions. Kenzie," she turned her attentions to the boy with a smile. "You should be in the workshop at this hour. Run along home, and fetch Ainsley from the Meddles on your way," she instructed.

"Mum!"

"You know your father will be cross with you for being late, especially since he has let you go early the past few days. Now get! And fetch your brother!"

"Yes, mum!" The boy conceded, turning reluctantly from the pair and heading toward the east side of the village.

"Sorry about that, Tare," Alice smiled, her hand rubbing her belly affectionately.

"You're a mum," Tarrant looked at her with wide green eyes, his limbs frozen as he watched her. "And you stayed in Underland."

"Sort of," Alice nodded her head. "About the Underland. Not about the mum part, obviously," she laughed as she indicated her belly once again.

"Oh," Tarrant found himself speechless as he looked at her motherly size.

"I am assuming you are from the time after we visited Grievorrow day?" Alice smiled warmly.

Tarrant nodded, still watching her silently. Alice shook her long waves. "Come now, Tare, I really won't bite," she insisted, her hand reaching out to take hold of his wrist. He noticed a set of rings on her left ring finger, glinting in the sun as she moved her hand.

"You're married," he added.

"You're very much the detective today," Alice mused, placing his hand on her round middle. Tarrant immediately felt tiny feet kick against his hand. Alice laughed as she watched his mouth fall open. "I couldn't help myself, I love seeing that reaction on your face." Her chuckles deepened as he gave her a blank look. "Of course this child is yours, Tarrant. Well, future yours. And he'll be terribly cross that I've told you this, so do please try and forget it before then. We knew you two would be coming and he thinks that telling you your futures is like cheating. Though, futures are always subject to change. Even the Oraculum has morphed over centuries as future entries approach."

"This…this is my bairn…my f-f-f-family?" Tarrant stuttered as he placed his other hand over her global stomach. The baby rolled about beneath.

"Are you pleased?"

"Oh, I rather am pleased, especially to see you in this way. And to know that you're staying in Underland. And, though it is rather undignified and presumptuous to say, I am rather glad that you are all mine, and I should be ashamed to say that I have grown endearingly fond of you, Alice, at least increasingly fond of my Alice and I really would like to have a family with my Alice and…"

"Then you have to convince me, Tare. And not by cheating!" Alice placed her hands over his.

"This isn't…" Tarrant looked past Alice toward the direction Kenzie had scurried off towards. "This isn't your only?"

"This is our fourth, Tare," Alice nodded. "'Family is important', like you've always said to me. 'You only have one', and you've determined to make that one as large as we're able." Alice looked up at the clock. "I have to get going, Tare. Future you is expecting me, and I'm afraid past me is on the way. And there will be dastardly effects if we are to see one another."

"Oh?" Tarrant hummed, his hands traveling across her belly, yearning for just a few more moments of realization. Alice pushed away his searching fingers hurriedly.

"I really must go," Alice reached up to place a hand on his cheek lovingly. "Convince me, Tare. Convince me to stay. I will if you ask." She took a basket quickly in hand, having set it beside her before speaking with past Tarrant. "Fairfarren, love."

"Fairfarren," Tarrant answered, watching as this Alice turned and took off in the direction her son, no, _their_ son had gone moments before. He watched her until he could no longer see her.

"Tarrant?" A hand was placed on his shoulder.

Tarrant turned to behold his Alice, her belly flat beneath his old waistcoat. Tarrant reached out, wrapping her in his arms, bringing her close to his body in an embrace. "Alice," he murmured into her hair.

"What has gotten into you?" She asked with a smile, her hands wrapping about his arms as she leaned away from him, his arms still wrapped about her waist.

"Nothing," he shook his head. "Were you able to find the Mad Hatter?"

"Indeed," Alice nodded her head. "What about you? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"I just met a milliner's wife, and she was lovely," Tarrant nodded, remembering what future Alice had said about talking about what was to come.

"Oh," Alice answered unenthusiastically.

"I think it's about time we get going," Tarrant reached into his coat pocket, fetching the Chronosphere. The orb sparked in his hand, causing him to yelp and drop it to the ground. Alice's eyes widened as she beheld the sparking object.

"I dare say it is— and quickly," she took the Chronosphere in hand, running toward the outer wall, Tarrant fast on her heels.

* * *

"Were your questions satisfied?" Alice asked as she steered the Chronosphere into the calmer seas of the past.

"I didn't have any specific questions in mind," Tarrant shrugged as he stood behind her, his arms looped about her waist comfortably. "I merely was curious."

"Was your curiosity satisfied, then?" Alice restated her question with a raised eyebrow.

"Is yours ever?"

"No," Alice licked her lips as she caught sight of the swelling wave revealing Time's castle before her. "Hold tight."

Tarrant obeyed, his grip about her middle tightening as Alice made for the wave, cutting through the current and gently guiding the sparking orb through dark skies surrounding the looming Castle of Eternity.

"Is this what that the old being calls home?" Tarrant inquired, an air of disgust in his lilting tones.

"I'm afraid so," Alice smiled. "Not as cozy as the Hightopp home, I suppose?"

"It's rather…dingy, wouldn't you say?"

"I don't have to live here, so I would much rather not," Alice concluded as she carefully landed the Chronosphere outside of one of the gates.

Tarrant stepped from the orb first, helping Alice down once again with a gentle hand. The two watched as the Chronosphere shrank, Alice leaned over to scoop the small object up in her hand. "I think it's time to get you home." She mused.

Alice led the way up the stairs and down the main corridor, hoping her memory served her correctly. She was delighted to see the balcony which oversaw the grand clock, happy that her instincts had been correct. Her smile melted, however, when she looked up to see the face of the clock.

The clock was sparking and sputtering, its face cracked and splintering. Seconds had been turned into Minutes had morphed into the Hour, the great creature laboriously trying to keep the hands moving on the Grand Clock. The metal groaned and creaked under the pressure, and it was obvious that at any moment the time piece could collapse.

"What have I done?" Alice shook her head, her fingers loosening around the Chronosphere she had fisted tightly.

"I think it is best we brought that back," Tarrant noted as he looked up at the clock. "I don't suppose that's how a clock should look. Perhaps give it some butter and jam?"

"That certainly won't do," Alice hurried toward the stairs that would lead her toward the clock. "Hurry, Tare!"

Alice watched the stairs below her feet, hurrying but not wishing to fall. She was startled, then, when she crashed into a figure at the bottom of the stairs. "Alice!" The shrill voice cried accusingly.

Alice gasped, her hands windmilling as she fought for balance. She had stumbled into Iracebeth, who was waiting with hands crossed and a sneer across her face.

"Guards!" Iracebeth cried. "Seize her!"

Two large beasts made entirely of vegetable and fauna, but looking human-like all the same, stepped forward to wrap their large hands around Alice. Alice grunted as she tried to pull from their grasp.

"'ey! Le' goe of Ahlice!" The burring warning tone of Tarrant could be heard as he thundered down the stairs.

"I should have guessed," the queen said with an unamused tone. "Where Alice goes, the Hatter is never far behind. Guards!"

"Tarrant!" Alice cried out as she tried to wiggle herself free of the vegetable hands. She turned her head to see several more vegetable guards approaching. "Tarrant, run!"

"Nay!" Tarrant shook his head, increasing his speed as he charged the guards. When he was close to the bottom step, he took a flying leap, landing upon one of the guard's heads, sending him flying backwards.

The other guard lost his balance as well and went crashing to the ground, bringing Alice with him. In his fall, the creature loosened his grip and Alice broke free. She scurried to her feet, making a break for the clock.

The guards approaching, however, were faster than they looked and quickly caught hold of her, taking her by her wrists once more. They dragged Alice to stand before the queen, Tarrant was held just as firmly by the recovered pair of guards at her side.

"Get it!" Iracebeth commanded, her hand held outstretched before her, waggling her fingers expectantly.

The guards holding Alice lifted her upwards, suspending her in midair as their hands went to search her person.

"Get off of me!" Alice screeched.

"Ah'll keel yeh!" Tarrant cried as he pulled against his restraints.

The guards let Alice go with a thrust, sending her sprawling to the floor. The one guard triumphantly held the Chronosphere in hand. Alice watched in dismay as Iracebeth took the orb in hand.

"Thank you, Alice," Iracebeth began, her dark eyes sweeping over Alice as she fisted the Chronosphere in hand. "You have just delivered to me the most powerful device in the universe."

Alice returned the ungrateful gratitude with a glare, struggling to her feet in an attempt to charge the Red Queen by herself. The guards behind Alice stopped her before she was able to reach the haughty woman. "Put them with the others," Iracebeth commanded, turning from the two and entering Time's office with a raised chin and clacking heeled steps.

Alice looked to Tarrant with wide eyes. He gave her a comforting grin, quieting his protests as the guards dragged the two after Iracebeth.

His gesture said the same thing her racing thoughts did— they would find a way to escape. For now, it was about biding their Time. Until they could find him.


	8. Part VIII

Alice struggled against the vines that were wrapped thickly around her arms, stumbling forward as the creature dutifully followed the Red Queen before him. Grinding her teeth, Alice continued to fight against her binds, hoping that she could perhaps loosen them a little to slip her wrist neatly through; but a sentient cuff was not likely to let her slip away so easily. She turned her head to look at Tarrant who followed resolutely, his eyes staring straight forward but burning with a warning orange hue.

Iracebeth led the group of captors and prisoners to the office that Alice had entered what she figured was only hours before. The room where Time had given her a lecture about not going into the past because there was nothing which could be done about it. Alice grimaced, the side of her mouth dimpling at the action. _If only I had listened_. She turned her head to glimpse the failing Grand Clock one last time.

"How are my two favorite captives today?" Iracebeth teased as she led the pack into the intimate quarters. The guard continued to bind Alice's hand with his vine while his two hands wrapped about her shoulders, pushing her to her knees. She looked up and into the face of a very ill looking Time. His face was devoid of any color, a grey hue replacing the light pink that had graced his long cheeks when she had last crossed paths with the deity. His blue eyes were sparking, losing their luminosity with each ragged breath he took. He was bound tightly to his wingback chair with similar vines that bound both Tarrant and Alice.

Time was not alone. A second chair had been produced next to his and in it was bound Mirana, her white face flush from crying and her cheeks stained dark with tears. An ascot had been fetched and tied about her mouth, muffling her screams. She kicked her booted feet defiantly, searching for any purchase or chance to loosen her own binds. Her movements stirred when she realized that her Champion and her Hatter were the newest prisoners.

"I told you she wouldn't stay gone for long," Iracebeth cackled as she approached her sister. "Your Champion is useless, my sister. She fell right into my little trap." Flicking her wrist, Iracebeth produced the shrunken Chronosphere between her thumb and forefinger. She teasing hovered the orb near Time's face, her red lips crossing in a pride-filled smile as her dark eyes beheld the instrument in her hand. "And she brought me exactly what you couldn't. It turns out Alice is a much better gift giver than you are, Tick Tock."

"You…you are making…a…m…m…mistake." Time struggled as his chest surged, a bolt of lightning arching from the shattered time piece on his chest.

"You were the one making a mistake, delaying the delivery of this precious piece of clockwork." Iracebeth rolled her eyes, turning her back to the deity. She fisted the orb in her hand before placing it in the hidden pocket of her dress. "I must be sure to take care of you two before I leave."

"Your Majesty," Alice pleaded, looking up to Iracebeth with wild murky green eyes. "I beg of you, don't try to use the Chronosphere to change the past. I have already tried and I can assure you that it's of no use."

"Shut up!" The Queen screeched, her cheeks burning a brilliant red to match the hair atop her head. "You were always an irksome, slurvish, interrupting thing!" Alice heard Tarrant growl at the insult the queen served her. "Guards, lock them away."

"What?" Alice cried as she was yanked to her feet.

"Ge' yehr 'ands ohf 'eh meh an' Ahlice!" Tarrant bucked wildly as the guard which held him fast brought him to his feet.

"Iracebeth!" Alice screamed. "You are making a big mistake."

"The mistake I made, Alice," Iracebeth's face was ferocious, a cross of impatience and irritation. "Was not taking your head the moment I found you in my gardens. Make no mistake, I shall take it this time. But first, I have some business to attend to with my dearest enemy." Iracebeth snapped her fingers and the binds about Mirana's limbs sprang to life. The ascot was pulled from her dark lips as she was ushered toward the older tyrant.

"Racey!" Mirana's voice was low and filled with warning. "You are being foolish. Unbind me so that we may speak properly."

"No likely, Mirana." Iracebeth answered. "You have avoided consequence long enough." Iracebeth fished into her pocket to retrieve the Chronosphere. Taking the orb in hand, she sent the small piece of metal flying forward. The Chronosphere sparked and sputtered into its larger size.

"Iracebeth, stop!" Alice pleaded. _She is going to ruin everything!_

"Enough!" Iracebeth cried over Alice's begging. "When I get back, Alice, I shall have the heads of all of your friends. And then I shall have yours." Iracebeth turned back to her sister, ushering her with a shove to her lower back into the Chronosphere. "Goodbye, Alice. And do try to not do anything irritating in your last moments of life."

"I will find you, Iracebeth!" Alice screamed, kicking wildly as the guard which bound her led her out of the room. With wide eyes of dismay, Alice watched as Time deflated into his chair, his chest and eyes sparking. "Oh, please hang on!" She pleaded now with the being as she was dragged off to a worse fate in the next room.

* * *

Alice's knuckles wrapped around the bars of a crudely made cage. She pressed her forehead to the cold metal, closing her eyes as she tried to think frantically of ways out of this mess. All around here were similar prisons of varying sizes, each one holding a friend that she had encountered and waged war with against the Queen with in her battle against the Jabberwocky.

Tarrant was in the cage to her left, sitting on the floor with his legs splayed out in front of him. He tilted his hat so that it covered his brow and eyes, the back of his head and back resting on the row of bars opposite her. Mally was in a smaller cage to his right, the small dormouse pacing anxious back and forth. To her left sat Thackery in his cage, speaking to the broken tea cup he had in hand about the proper time for tea.

McTwisp was nervously wringing his hands in a prison to her right, muttering something about how he should have just stayed home that day. The Tweedles were in a prison to his right. Bayard was the only creature not bound in a cage, but a heavy chain tied him tightly to the cage that held the Tweedle twins.

"This is all my fault," Alice sighed, her hands falling from the bars and to her sides. "I shouldn't have been so foolish as to think I could do anything about the past. I should have listened."

"Be that as it may," Tarrant responded, talking from beneath his hat. "It is not going to change the circumstances."

As Alice let forth another sigh of defeat, the castle buckled, sending her crashing forward to her knees. Tarrant was pushed to his side, his hat falling with a clang to the metal floor beside him. McTwisp scrambled for his pocket watch that flew from his fast grip.

"The time!" He exclaimed with a tight cry. "It's spinning and slipping."

"Meaning we don't have much of it," Tarrant replied as he reached out to grab his hat. Alice frowned as she stood to her feet, a renewed sense of urgency hastening her search for an exit. It wouldn't do much good to merely escape, seeing as she would not only need to open the jails but she would need to find a way around the guards as well.

"It would be more helpful if Chess didn't run off as he normally does, the coward," Mally replied bitterly.

"It's probably for the best," Bayard answered.

Alice frowned in disagreement as her fingers danced from bar to bar. It would do little good to focus on the missing cat; she needed to puzzle out how to escape these cages. Each jail was made with a crude door, held shut by a lock. The guards were the ones with the keys.

 _But what if there was a skeleton key?_ Alice's eyes widened as she looked over at Tarrant. He was watching her, his red mouth set in a hard line as he met her gaze.

"I see you have an idea," he mused. Alice hurried to the side of her cage adjacent to his.

"Tarrant, do you have a hat pin?" She asked.

"Of course," Tarrant laughed as he reached up into top hat. "Though I am not sure the good they'll do you. They're not meant for fighting, not these ones."

"Perhaps they'll do enough." Alice answered, holding her hand out to the milliner. Tarrant looked at her with narrowed eyes, but dropped three pins her open palm all the same.

"What are you planning?"

"You'll have to see if it works." Alice glanced over her shoulder to where the guards were walking opposite one another from one side of the room to the other. "I need some sort of distraction if this is to work."

"Did someone say distraction?" A clever voice asked from Alice's shoulder. Alice turned her head to see Chess evaporating atop the pink fabric of her shirt.

"You cheeky Cheshire!"

"Hush!" The cat flicked his tail, disappearing once again into thin air. "I thought you would need my gift, but I wanted to be sure to use it wisely." A sure grin and a pair of teal eyes appeared before Alice.

"Et woul' 'ave been be'er 'ah yeh been 'ere fehr th' 'ole shukm!" Tarrant growled.

"No, no," Alice shook her head. "This works now." She turned back to the cat. "Chess, I need you to distract the guards for just a few moments. Are you sure you can do that?"

"I am more than sure," the cat winked. "You just be sure to work swiftly." Alice nodded her head, her cheeks tight as she knew this plan would depend on her speed as surely as it would Chess' ability to create a scene.

"Go!" Alice whispered harshly.

"No need to be so snappy." The cat replied, but he disappeared all the same.

When she heard a cry of shock from one of the guards, Alice hurriedly moved into position. She clutched the pins in hand, hurrying toward the lock. She would have to perform her own escape blindly and she prayed she could remember all that Phelps had taught her about picking locks.

Settling onto the floor before the door of her prison, Alice reached outside the bars and placed two of the hat pins in the mouth of the lock. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sounds of the tumblers in the lock and not on the shouts of the plant-men-guards. The slow twisting of the top lock freed one of the pins, with steady determination she set to work on the lower. Her wrists twirling and arching as she tried to figure out which pin to depress.

"Clever girl!" Tarrant exclaimed when he realized what she was up to.

Alice felt beads of sweat form on her brow. This was taking longer than she had hoped, and even if she could see the locks of the others' cages, it would take more time than Chess would be able to provide.

Her heart raced and her wrist ached, but it was only a few more breaths before the lock on her door sprung open. Alice sat for a moment, dumbstruck that her attempt had worked, before she leapt into action.

Throwing the lock from her door, Alice threw open the gate. She took the hat pins in hand, looking first to her right where McTwisp stood with wide red eyes and then to her left, where Tarrant waited patiently for her to decide who to free next.

Taking a deep breath, Alice turned to her left, sprinting to the lock before Tarrant's door. She fell to her knees, jamming the pins into the lock. Her urgency quickly snapped the lower pin and she panicked as she pulled the third pin from where she placed it in the waistcoat pocket.

"Hey!" One of the guards cried. "Forget the cat, she's free!"

"I…I…got 'em!" The other guard yelled, his claim accentuated by the yowl of cat, signaling that Chess had been caught.

Alice tried to ignore the footsteps that neared her, her fingers working the pins in the lock before her, ears searching for the clicks. Her palms were growing slick with sweat and she was afraid she would jam one of the pins too roughly and snap it off once more. Her fingers trembled as she twisted and twirled the long metal staffs in the maw of the lock. She saw Tarrant in her peripheral vision rise, his mouth turning into a hard frown as his fist balled at his side. She knew the guard was close, uncomfortably so, when the pins hit their mark and the lock fell open.

"Tarrant!" She cried, throwing the lock from the door and standing to open the gate to let the Hatter free. Tarrant emerged in a streak as he sprinted out to grab the guard behind Alice in a headlock. The two began to wrestle, Alice watching on with wide eyes as she flattened herself against the cage. Glancing up, she saw that the other guard had been successful in binding Chess and was now making his way toward Alice, vines whipping about him as he sought to trap her wrists once more.

Alice let out a cry, her hands raising to protect her face as the guard shot his vine-like whips toward her. She braced herself for the sting of the organic cuffs, wincing prematurely. Holding the stance for a breath, she realized the moment never came. Opening her eyes hesitantly, she saw the vine suspended in midair before her, the guard frozen in his final action. Beyond him, the guard wrestling Tarrant was also solid, the Mad Hatter was left to wrestle a creature which did not respond. The friends in the room where also stayed in the movement, the only free moving beings remaining where she and Tarrant.

And Time. Time was leaning against the doorframe of the room, his finger staying the ticking of the minute hand as he panted.

"What happened?" Alice looked at the being with wide eyes.

"I've stopped myself," Time wheezed. "But you must hurry."

"What do you mean?" Tarrant asked as he detangled himself from the arms of the plant-being. He brushed himself off as he stood, Alice quickly taking to his side as the two watched Time with hesitancy.

"My…my…my Tempus Fugit….the time…m-m-machine is with…the Grand Clock. Take it." Time commanded as best he could with wheezing breaths. "It's up to you now, Alice. You…you have to stop her. And stop her from…seeing…herself." Time coughed before he lurched forward with a shout. "HURRY!"

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Alice asked Tarrant with a grimace. "Let's go!"

The command sent both Alice and Tarrant into action. The two of them sprinted toward Time, giving the deity a wide berth as they passed. Alice led the run through Time's sitting room and into the great hall.

"How will we know where they went?" Tarrant cried out from behind Alice.

"I know exactly when they are going," Alice tucked her head into her chest as she ran. "To the moment where everything went wrong."

* * *

"Racey!" Mirana cried, struggling against her sister's grip. "What are you doing?" Iracebeth did not answer with words, but instead grabbed her sister firmly about her wrist, dragging her out of the Chronosphere and taking the shrinking orb up in her fist once more.

Mirana had ceased in her struggling when her sister had taken off in the Chronosphere, the small orb bouncing and bucking erratically as Iracebeth drove the sphere through the air and into the sea of Time. Mirana had watched, slack jawed and with eyes as large as dinner saucers, as her sister crashed through the wave that flashed the highlights of Transwendeln Day. Mirana shut her eyes tightly, hoping that this did not mean she would be forced to repeat the past. When Iracebeth crashed the craft through the stained glass of Pasdeuxtris, Mirana knew she would be forced to relive her nightmare.

"Racey, please, can we not talk like sisters?" Mirana begged.

"It is too late for that," Iracebeth growled. "You should have thought about talking long before this day ever happened."

"Iracebeth, please!" Mirana cried as she fought against her sister's grip. But Iracebeth was far too angry and vengeful to loosen the hold she had on her sister.

Mirana continued to pull and push as Iracebeth led her down the long corridors of a castle the Red Queen was supposed to call her own. "Do you remember these halls, Mirana?" Iracebeth asked, a cruelness highlighting her tone.

"Pasdeuxtris, of course I remember. This was the seat of Witzend, the home of the King and Queen of Underland."

" _Was_ ," Iracebeth corrected her with the jerk of her arm, sending Mirana stumbling forward. "Until the Great Compromise. I was forced to wander these halls for weeks while Mummy and Daddy made me Salazen Grum. Do you remember that? You inherited the great paradise of Marmoreal, had it all prepared for you ahead of time. While I stalked this castle for weeks, knowing it was supposed to be mine and never was."

"Please, Iracebeth. You have to understand, you were not ready to rule! You had your fits and your head, Racey— "

"My fits and my head were all of your fault! Just like this night was your fault!" Iracebeth responded, pointing to her twisted forehead. "If you had just done as daddy commanded, if you had just left well enough alone. If you _told the truth_. Perhaps _Phillip could have loved me_."

Mirana felt her throat tighten as tears filled her eyes. _What did I do?_ She asked, her hand covering her mouth as she shook her long white hair. _What hand did I play in creating all of this?_ "Racey, _listen_ …"

"No, Mirana, it's time _you_ listened!" Iracebeth yanked her arm, a scowl of pain crossing Mirana's lips in response.

The two were standing in the back corridor, just outside the kitchens. The clock struck eleven and Mirana felt the hairs on her arm stand up.

_It's happening, all over again._

The sound of clashing pans filled the kitchen and Mirana dared not look through the small parting in the door. If she had, she would have watched a merry scene of three young women, one bustling about the fire and ovens while two look on. The one tending the cooking watched the cake with kaleidoscope eyes, her curly red hair pulled back by a handkerchief so that she did not soil it with batter. A young Mirana watched from the long table, her slender finger dipping into the batterfilled bowl to retrieve chunks of uncooked dough that she feasted on. Beside her sat another red head, older than the baker, her green eyes watching the younger one with delight.

"You were right in asking Elspeth to make a Batternberg cake for your Charming Chess darling," the older redhead, Siobhan, spoke.

"I feel bad taking the credit," young Mirana confessed, though she continued to lick at the batter on her finger.

"As long as I get the credit for your thriving relationship," Elspeth smacked at Mirana's hand. "If you eat all the dough, the cake shan't come out right."

"You should know better than to try to eat all of Els' batter," Siobhan scolded with a whimsical giggle. "When are we going to meet your charming prince? You keep tell us next time and yet Time comes and he's still a mystery."

"It's complicated." Mirana mused.

"So very, _very_ complicated, isn't that right, Mirana?" Iracebeth hissed into the older White Queen's ear. Mirana felt a flood of dread fill her limbs.

"I think I should meet him tonight. See it as repayment for the cake," Elspeth suggested.

"No!" Young Mirana jumped to her feet, startling the Hightopp sisters. "I mean, no, he isn't coming until late and besides, you'll want to be home before midnight else your father will be very upset."

"We can convince Tarrant to find a way to get us out of trouble," Siobhan shook her head.

"Siv, Els, I promise that you will meet him soon enough. But _please,_ we need this evening to make everything right."

"Fine," Siobhan conceded with a heavy sigh. Elspeth remained silent, her attention returning to the chessboard cake she was finishing for the princess.

"You two are the best friends a princess could ask for," young Mirana reached out to grab their wrists simultaneously. "If only Iracebeth could be half the woman you ladies are."

"You shouldn't be so hard on your sister," Elspeth spoke. "I feel dreadful about her accident."

"I don't," Mirana confessed. "She was a right terror before then, only serves as a warning sign now. Poor Philip has to be stuck with such a terror."

"Yes," Elspeth responded tightly, her yellowing eyes glancing up to Mirana. "Poor Philip, indeed."

" _Oh Racey_ ," Mirana's hand wrapped about her mouth as she opened her eyes, the look of pure poison that covered her sister's features began to warp and fade in the mist of tears that filled her brown eyes. " _Oh Racey, what did I_ _ **do**_ _?"_

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right day? Or night, rather?" Alice asked as she and Tarrant worked the handpump of Time's damaged Tempus Fugit in tangent.

"Transwendeln was the day, I'm sure of it." Tarrant nodded his head. Alice narrowed her eyes as the machine continued to soar through the air. "Now where are we going to land this?"

"Through the window!" Alice answered.

"What?" Tarrant's green eyes widened as he turned his head to see that Alice had, in fact, directed the ship toward the window. "Are you mad?"

"All the best people are," Alice answered, pumping for the two and them and increasing the speed of the ship as they neared the castle. "Now, hold on tight."

Tarrant shook his head as Alice bore down on the pump, leaning her body toward the right so that the handpump machine entered the large stain glass window on its side. She hit her mark beautifully, sending the two of them tumbling to the floor. The pair looked at one another before scrambling to their feet.

"I don't know where we are," Alice admitted as she looked to Tarrant on her right. "I don't know this castle."

Tarrant glanced about him as the two continued down the hall, nodding his head as realization began to dawn. "Pasdeuxtris. We are in the castle of Witzend. I know this place well."

"And where is Iracebeth's quarters?"

"Up this way!" Tarrant took hold of Alice's hand, pulling her along the hall. "Hurry, Alice!"

The two were winded, their legs burning, as they hurried up the stairs toward the back suite, Tarrant expertly knowing which doors to pass and which ones to take. It wasn't long before they were stopped by a large set of red doors, silver filigree decorating the massive crimson portal.

"Iracebeth's quarters," Tarrant whispered with his familiar lisp. "This is where she stayed until Salazen Grum was built for her."

"At the back of the castle, tucked far away," Alice looked about her. She didn't want to pity the queen, but she couldn't help but wonder if Iracebeth was constantly tucked away after her coronation. "Is she in there?"

"She did not leave until a week after tonight. Salazen Grum was taking longer than expected and Philip did not want to leave Witzend until it was finished. A fool he was."

"Philip?" Alice's brows crossed. "Why would she leave with him?"

"They married not long after her Coronation, much to the dismay of Mirana. I remember she was morose for weeks afterwards."

"Oh, no." Alice felt her cheeks go pale. "She never let him go, did she?"

"I'm afraid not." Tarrant responded.

Alice closed her eyes and took a deep breath, approaching the entrance of Iracebeth's quarters as she pressed a flat palm to the crimson doors. She pushed against the wood gently, glad to see that the portal did indeed push inward. Tarrant was close on her heels as she entered the apartments, cold and dark and eerie. Alice shuddered for a moment, the chill filling her bones, before she took her first step down the main corridor. Tarrant reached forward to grab her by her wrist as she moved down the halls.

"This seems like a bad idea." He whispered, looking about the room. "I don't think Iracebeth would have come back to this moment."

"Surely Iracebeth came to try to stop this," Alice answered.

"Then why aren't they here?" Tarrant whispered. "We would have seen them by now."

"Maybe they're hiding. Iracebeth would know of all the places. This _is_ her apartment, after all."

"I don't know," Tarrant raised his free hand to his mouth, worrying his lips with his fingernails as he followed Alice.

"Hush!" Alice cried as the sounds of Iracebeth's voice could be heard down the halls.

"She is in her kitchenette. Toward the back of the quarters. It is where she is supposed to practice her magics." Tarrant pushed Alice forward, the two rushing to eavesdrop and hopefully intercept the older queen's interruption of her younger self.

The door to the kitchenette was left slightly ajar, much to the relief of both the maiden and the milliner. The two crept to the doorway, trying to mask their pants with slow deep breaths. Alice struggled to hear the commands Iracebeth was saying over the pounding of her heart in her ears.

"Dominion over living things," the lighter voice of a younger Iracebeth mused as the sounds of her heels clacking on the tile indicated she was moving about. She was dressed in an elegant red gown, entirely too proper to suggest she was anywhere near going to bed. Alice wondered how many hours she had been slaving over the small cauldron before her. "I study and study and study. This had best work."

Alice looked to Tarrant with wide eyes, shrugging her shoulders to show that she didn't understand what was going on. Tarrant tapped his temple to indicate that whatever young Iracebeth was planning, it had to do with her head.

"A penny for my thoughts," the sound of coins hitting glass, "and honey to soothe my words. A ladybird's wing for grace and a feather of a swan for beauty. A few dabs of wishful thinking and a spoonful of silver lining. That should do the trick." Iracebeth's footsteps stopped and the distinct swish of mixing ingredients could be heard. She then spat forcefully into the mix, much like Mirana had done when she had made Alice Pilshaver years ago.

" _Bind the skin together, make new the mold of fate._

_Soothe the tremendous echo and increase my handsome rate._

_Once the past errs have been healed, may my true beauty be revealed."_

Iracebeth's voice was even and slow, incanting her will over the concoction she had created. Alice closed her eyes as she sensed the movement in the room stilled.

A sound of sipping filled the air.

Then the shattering of glass.

And then a scream of agony.

Alice covered her ears and shut her eyes tightly as she heard Iracebeth choke and cry. She didn't want to look back into the room, afraid she would find the princess writhing on the ground. _Oh Iracebeth, what did you do?_

She dared not move until Tarrant reached forward to grab her wrist. Alice noticed that the air went silent. No longer was Iracebeth crying out in pain. Instead, a sound of rustling clothing filled the stillness and Alice breathed a sigh of relief to know that she was not knocked out cold.

And then the sound of clicking heels toward the door began.

Alice hurried to conceal herself underneath a table set outside the room along the wall, Tarrant hurried to hide behind a plant. The two were safely tucked away when Iracebeth came to the door, flying it open by the handles. She paused for a moment, looking about the corridor with narrowed eyes. Alice held her breath.

She should have shut her eyes, for what she saw nearly gave her position away with a second gasp. Looking up, she saw that Iracebeth was made whole once more. Her forehead no longer bore the marring scar from her collision with the statue. Her nose was no longer twisted and broken, but sat small and pretty on her heart shaped face. Her head was also of a normal size. Alice was surprised to find that Iracebeth was quite handsome; not in the unassuming gentle way Mirana was, but a dangerous elegance graced her face. She was a fierce beauty now in her long red dress, accented with black velvet and gold cloth. Her lips were still a crimson red, her ginger hair pulled into an ornate bun atop her head. Her eyes were small and her brows thin, but of the proper size on her lean body. She was a queen that could strike awed silence into the hearts of her citizens.

Alice was glad when Iracebeth hurried down the corridor, her heels echoing off the floor as she went. She did not move until the sound of the apartment door opening and closing signaled that Iracebeth had left her quarters completely.

"Maybe we have it wrong," Alice crawled from her hiding spot. She turned to see Tarrant join her in the hall.

"I don't understand. I have never seen Iracebeth that way before. She was ruined from her early teen years. You saw her."

"I did."

"And after the scar— it was her…" his hands floated about his head to indicate the size Alice was used to seeing her monumental globe.

"I don't understand?" Alice shook her head. "And where is our Iracebeth and Mirana?"

"I don't think this story is over yet." Tarrant answered. He took Alice by the hand, following the way they entered. "I think we'd best go after her."

Alice nodded her head, her fingers locking tightly around Tarrant's as the two continued after the foreign yet beautiful queen.

"Philip!" The sounds of Iracebeth's hopeful cries filled the corridor as Alice and Tarrant followed behind. "Philip, I have the most wonderful news!"

"Maybe Iracebeth came earlier and gave herself better advice?" Alice whispered into Tarrant's shoulder as she hovered behind him, watching the queen from a distance.

"But Time specifically said to make sure her past self did not meet her future self." Tarrant shook his head. "I think more happened on this eve than even I knew."

"Hurry, Tarrant, or we'll lose her!" Alice pushed the milliner forward as Iracebeth descended the stairs and entered the great hall.

* * *

Tarrant and Alice followed the searching Iracebeth through the halls of the winding Pasdeuxtris until she came upon the kitchens. The monarch continued in her frenzied search, calling out Philip's name ever so often. Alice and Tarrant stilled as the sound of footsteps approaching silenced Iracebeth's search.

"Iracebeth?" A young voice Alice did not recognize asked.

"Elspeth?" Tarrant whispered, his body rigid. "Oh Elspeth, you foolish girl!" Alice looked back to see Tarrant watching the exchange between his sisters and the Red Queen.

"Hello, Hightopp twits," Iracebeth answered bitterly.

"Can we help you?" Siobhan asked. "It is rather late and I thought you'd be in bed," Alice watched as the girl's green eyes glanced nervously over to her sister.

"Have you seen the Red King?" Iracebeth's voice was tight, suggesting she did not want to ask the girls for help but needed it all the same.

"I can't say I have," Elspeth answered. "I thought he would have been sleeping, seeing as the hour is late." The girl glanced over her shoulder to the doors behind her. "Are you sure he hasn't fallen asleep somewhere, like the great hall?"

"No," Iracebeth answered. "He gave me a cup of dreamtea and then he said he had business to attend to in the study, to not wait for him."

"You look changed, your majesty." Siobhan cocked her head, stepping forward to look at the Queen better.

"I should say I have. I am now the prettiest girl in all of Marmoreal and Witzend, no thanks to the witches and my sisters."

"So I see," Elspeth answered cautiously. "Well, I wish you luck in finding the king. He will certainly be surprised at your transformation. I hope you are not by his."

"What do you mean?!" Iracebeth demanded.

"You will know soon enough. Now, Siobhan and I must be on our way, your majesty," Elspeth took the skirts of her modest dress in hand, curtsying politely. "Good night, your majesty."

"Yes, well, goodnight. Be on your way, you nuisance peasants."

"Goodnight," Siobhan curtsied as well, hurrying after her sister.

Siobhan and Elspeth began their path toward where Alice and Tarrant hid in the shadows as Iracebeth continued her search for her husband. Alice and Tarrant stilled as the sisters approached, but clever Elspeth had too keen of senses.

"Tarrant! What are you doing down here so late? I would have thought you'd retired to your apartment!" Elspeth hurried forward to wrap her brother in a hug.

"Shh, Els!" Tarrant insisted, his finger covering his mouth to indicate to Siobhan to stay silent as well. "I am afraid I'm not your Tarrant."

Siobhan answered, her hands resting on her waist. "And who is hiding with you in the shadows?"

Alice stepped forward sheepishly, her cheeks burning as she stood among the half circle of sisters. Siobhan sent her brother a wicked grin. "You move out of the house for a week and you're already seeking trouble, you naughty boy!"

"It's not like that," Tarrant shook his head. "I am not your Tarrant, as I've said."

"We do have a habit of picking up the wrong brother," Elspeth narrowed her eyes as she looked at Alice. "I supposed this is mother's fhàidh."

"Would I be able to convince you I'm not a witch or a sorceress?" Alice asked.

"It would do little good," Siobhan shrugged.

"But it would be best if you could fix what is bound to go wrong." Elspeth looked back over her shoulder.

"What do you mean?" Alice asked.

"Mirana is a very poor liar," Elspeth answered, looking to her sister. "I fear her Chess Prince is none other than the Tessellation Prince. I believe I just made Mirana a cake for the Red King, a cake filled with charm and love potion."

"What?" Siobhan shook her head. "You put love potion in?"

"Just a little!" Elspeth covered her face with her hands. "I didn't know. And I wanted to make sure everything was perfect with…oh I've ruined things."

"You couldn't have known, Els," Tarrant assured his sister.

"I do promise you that I will make all of this right," Alice placed a hand on the fretting girl's shoulder. "That's why I've come."

"Hurry, Alice! Perhaps you can stop her before she discovers— "

"Philip, I've been looking for you— oh…" Iracebeth entered the kitchen. Her voice went from one filled with happiness to a cry of shock.

The three women winced as Tarrant looked on with worry. "I think that means we had best go," he took Alice by the arm.

"Please, Tare," Elspeth begged. "Please fix the mistake. Have Mirana tell the truth."

"I'll do my best," he answered her.

" _Sealbh math dhuit_ ," Siobhan whispered. Tarrant leaned forward and pecked both his sisters on the cheek.

"We'd better hurry," he took Alice by the hand. " _Mar sin leat_."

"Tare, what if we are too late?" Alice hurried behind him as he led her toward the door ahead.

"We mustn't think that way." He responded.

Tarrant and Alice quickly edged over to the door, peering around the corner. A distraught looking threesome crowded the hot kitchens. Mirana stood at the long table, dressed in a pretty lavender muumuu dress, her hair expertly braided into a fishtail that fell over her shoulder. To her side stood Philip, in full kingly attire. His gloved hands were picking about the cake that Mirana pretended she had made for him. The two had been caught mid-giggle by a less than pleased Iracebeth.

"What is going on?" Iracebeth's trademark screech echoed from her mouth.

"Racey," Mirana, whose voice was lighter and younger, began.

"I said _what is going on?_ " Iracebeth's face turned beet red and Alice placed a hand to her mouth as she watched her head inflate.

"Iracebeth," Mirana stepped toward her sister. "What have you done?

Tarrant slowly crept around the door, entering the dim kitchen. Alice felt her heart leap into her throat as she watched him enter the room. With trembling steps, she did the same, the two ducking into the shadows as they watched the exchange. There was little to fear, however, as the anxiety caused by the young Iracebeth's intrusion and the Red Queen's hurt was too distracting a force. Nothing could deter attention away from the conflict.

"I fixed myself," Iracebeth look over to her husband with a proud look. "Philip, do you see what I did!"

"Racey, how?" Mirana stepped closer to her sister, her hand reaching out to try to stroke the smooth skin.

"Don't touch me, you nasty little traitor!" Iracebeth ripped away from her sister's grip. "I should take your head for this."

"For what?" Mirana looked about the kitchens with a confused look.

"What are you two doing?" Iracebeth pointed her finger first at her sister and then her husband. "Do you think you are going to sneak around this palace by night, _my palace which I have invited you to,_ and think I won't know about it?" Iracebeth's fists clenched. "I know of your secret letters!"

"Racey, you are talking nonsense," Mirana waved her hand.

"Then how do you explain that? You never bake, Mirana, no matter how much mummy tries to make you!"

"I know," Mirana nodded her head. "But I have been trying, because of our studies, Racey. Now, will you let me look at your head! Which should really have Witch Angora look at it. What spells did you use to fix this, Racey? You know you aren't talented enough."

"Don't you dare insult me, Mirana!" Iracebeth raged. Her head began to swell a little larger. "That stupid old crone couldn't fix what you did. You are a little liar and you ought to have suffered because of it!"

"It was a mistake, Racey, believe me."

"And you are lying now!" Iracebeth shrieked, her head swelling more. "Do you think you are going to run off with my husband? Embarrass me and put me to shame? Make me the further laughing stock of my people?"

"What, Racey, no!" Mirana shook her head. "I promise, Racey, I was going to fetch you to eat some cake I made. I know how stressful it's been since daddy is ill and you have been helping Philip make final decisions in the old king's last days— " Alice noted that Mirana was wringing her hands.

"She was trying to convince the new King to leave her sister in the old King's last days is more like it," Alice whispered.

"Hush!" Tarrant shushed her.

"Philip, go!" Iracebeth screamed. The king balked, looking at his wife with wide blue eyes. "Did you not hear me? I said go away! Back to our quarters."

"Iracebeth— " his voice was a low warning.

"King Philip, I think you should," Mirana turned to look at him with moist brown eyes. With a sigh, Philip obeyed, taking a slice of Batternberg on his way.

"Iracebeth, you are a fool." Mirana scolded her sister. "Now can we speak of your spell— "

"No!" Iracebeth cried. "I'm working on another to control my husband before he thinks he can leave me for you." Iracebeth's head continued to balloon, growing more and more as her temper swelled.

"Racey," Mirana stepped forward, her hand reaching out to grab her sister's wrist. "I promise you, I have given up on Philip. He is your husband, the one daddy thought best to rule at your side."

"You didn't get the Hightopp girls to bake him a cake and pretend it was yours? Always lying, Mirana."

"They did bake the cake, but it was meant for Philip _and_ you." Mirana's voice shook, her tone tight.

"You truly mean that you will leave Philip alone? That you don't intend to love him? You will tell me the truth, Mirana?"

A tight smile pressed across Mirana's dark lips as she patted her sister's hand. "Iracebeth, I was over Philip long ago." She insisted. "Now, let's put to bed these notions of spells and control, let's have some cake and return to bed. Everything will be alright in the morning. The people will love you, Philip will love you, you just need to fix what you've tried to repair."

"LIAR!" The doors on the opposite side of the room burst open. The older Iracebeth entered the room with a finger pointed directly at the young Mirana. "SHE IS LYING! SHE WILL TAKE YOUR HUSBAND, SHE WILL TAKE YOUR CROWN, SHE WILL TAKE YOUR LAND. OFF WITH HER HEAD. OFF WITH HER HEAD, NOW!"

Alice let out a cry of fright as the two Iracebeth's suddenly froze, their eyes wide as they beheld the other.

And then they began to oxidize, their limbs breaking out in a rust colored rash as decay took over and held them fast.

Alice watched as the webs began to move down the bodies of both Iracebeth's before reaching the young Mirana who had hold of her younger sister's arm. She let out a cry before she was trapped in time, a marble statute held in a state of terror.

"This cannot be good," Tarrant said at Alice's side. Alice felt her eyes widen as the older Mirana turned to look at her.

"Run!" Alice took off in a sprint toward the doors. There the two found the Mirana of their time, her head hung and weeping into her hands.

"Where is the Chronosphere?" Alice commanded, trying to snap the monarch out of her grief.

"Oh, Alice," Mirana's lashes were heavy with tears, her eyes red and glassy from her weeping.

"We need the Chronosphere, Mirana, if we hope to make this right!"

"Here," she held a shaking hand out to the blonde. "I took it from Racey when she wasn't looking. Oh, Alice, what have I done?" Her cheeks were shiny with tears and her hand trembled as she held the small orb out to her once Champion.

Alice took the Chronosphere in her fist. She turned once more to watch as the kitchen began to fill with the web, the rusting and calcification not soft and shiny like a spider's trap, but froze in barbs and spikes. Time did not like the idea of a paradox; it was crumbling apart just as Mirana had warned it might.

"We've got to go, now." Alice turned to Tarrant who nodded his head.

"Wait!" Mirana cried. "I can't leave Racey."

"You must, if you want to make it!" Alice scolded. "Now run!"

* * *

Time sat on the great cog, propped up by its inner pedestal, willing the clock to tick with the little strength he had left. He wished to be alone in the moment, but as always, he was never left in peace. He was currently surrounded by the grateful friends of the irritating kindergartner. He had managed to help free the dormouse, the hare, the bloodhound, and the Tweedles with the help of the disappearing cat. It did not take long for the dog and the dormouse to disband the rest of the guards. With the help of Alice's friends, Time had struggled to the Grand Clock, hoping that nearness might slow down decay's progression.

Wilkins had joined the side of his dying boss, the loyal Second sitting at his boot anxiously as the motley crew was forced to do nothing but wait and hope that Alice would be able to stop the terrible tyrant. Time could not help but wonder in these moments if perhaps he bore a small responsibility in all of this mess.

He did not have long to ponder, however, before the gears began to stutter in their shifting, one of the overhead cogs falling loose and crashing to the floor below. Another followed in its wake.

Time looked around in fear as he realized the Grand Clock was not stopping in its progression, slowed by the lack of its power source, but was instead falling into ruins.

"She has broken the past," he coughed, dread filling his long limbs.

"What?" The crew around him gasped, looking first at one another and finally to him.

"Only putting back the Chronosphere can save us now!" Wilkins cried out, his mechanical hands wrapped about his metal face. His head was steaming as the gravity of their current situation was realized.

Time hoped the kindergarten was as quick about returning the Chronosphere as she was about taking it.

The fate of Underland rested entirely on her shoulders.

All he could do was use what he had left to keep ticking.

* * *

Alice's knuckles were white as she depressed the level of the Chronosphere, her heart racing in her chest as she dared not look behind her to see the fast spreading rust hot on her heels.

Cries from the citizens of Witzend below began to fill the air as the fast-moving decay began to still the movement of people and creature alike. The teal and red frost enveloped Pasdeuxtris, the streets, the buildings, the statue where Iracebeth had once fallen. It climbed the trees, it stilled the bushes, it halted the gentle sway of the flowers.

And it began to fill the clouds above, blocking the path that Alice would need to take to reach the Oceans of Time.

Alice pushed on the level frantically, praying that she would be able to reach the speeds needed to break into the Oceans without being trapped in the past. The Grand Clock needed the Chronosphere; perhaps she could undo all of this by returning it.

Alice felt Tarrant's grip on her arm as he took the position behind her, his energy willing her to make it. His fingers squeezed her skin as the orb hurtled toward the rapidly darkening sky; Alice feared they wouldn't be able to escape the tendrils of rust that was overtaking the clouds above and silencing the wind around the hurtling sphere. At the last moment, the Chronosphere burst into the Ocean leaving a stilled Witzend in the past.

Entering the Ocean did not assure their safety. Alice expertly guided the bouncing sphere through the rust and decay that was taking over the roaring waves of the past and present. She had to force herself to exhale, to inhale, to not hold her breath. She would need to stay conscious and focused in her piloting of the ship and that meant staying as calm as she could. She had done this before, escaping the ships of those pirates determined to loot their bounty and take the _Wonder._ She had made it past the rocks, surely, she could make it through this obstacle.

Assuming she could move fast enough.

The waves were treacherous, the Oceans of Time littered with fierce lightning strikes as the sea itself churned violently, the decay following them creating a storm with its arrival. Alice felt her tummy turn as she held tight to the wheel, dodging waves and lightning strikes as she pushed on towards the future.

"I don't want to alarm you," Tarrant breathed into her neck, "but it's catching up."

Alice looked over her shoulder to see that the rust was indeed stilling the waves that were behind, reaching forward as if searching for the Chronosphere, as if specifically wanting to freeze her.

Alice shifted one of the gears, depressing the level until it was nearly parallel to the floor. The Chronosphere shot forward, bouncing through memories of the day before when she first climbed through the looking glass. She bounced along the sky, looking down at the peaceful scene beneath the cherry blossom tree where she encountered her concerned friends after her fall. The soared past the house of the Hightopps atop the hill overlooking the waterfall in the distance. The tranquil moment was quickly engulfed by searching rust and damaging decay.

Alice guided the orb out of this memory, holding fast to the wheel to keep the craft headed forward toward the next.

* * *

The rust was moving as quickly as the Chronosphere as Alice entered the moment she had last left, the Castle of Eternity looming in the distance as she raced the orb along the emptiness that surrounded it. Tarrant's grip moved from her arms to her waist, a much more comfortable position for her. She wondered if she made it through, if she would find bruises from where he held fast to her arms. Shaking the thought from her mind, she eased the Chronosphere toward Time's castle. Mirana let out a moan of fright from behind.

Alice looked forward, spying another stained-glass window that stood between her and her destination. Glancing back, she saw the relentless rust that followed. She would not be able to slow the orb down to enter through the door; there was only one way in now.

"A-A-Alice?" Mirana's voice trembled behind her.

"Hold on everybody," Alice answered. Tarrant let go of Alice's waist with one of his arms, pulling Mirana into the huddle in the center of the Chronosphere. Alice could feel the monarch shuddering in fear behind her.

The orb cleaning broke through the top sphere of the stained glass, missing the iron skeleton of the artful décor that would have shattered the Chronosphere into pieces. Alice guided the sphere as best she could through the air and toward the main corridor which led to the Grand Clock.

"When I say so, you need to jump!" Alice commanded. She felt Tarrant's arm loosen about her waist until he completely let go. "Mirana?"

"I will!" The queen answered with a shake in her voice. Alice narrowed her eyes as she approached the marble floor below. She dared not look back to see how close the rust was to catching them. She would not be able to run as fast the Chronosphere could fly.

"Now!" She shouted.

Alice, Tarrant, and Mirana jumped from the orb as Alice pulled the chain that shrank the craft. She quickly bent down to scoop the shrinking sphere as she began her mad dash down the corridor toward the splintering Grand Clock before them.

"The Chronosphere!" The cry of Wilkins filled the silent air. "She's brought it back!" Alice didn't take any energy to respond, her legs continuing to fly beneath her as she raced toward the clock.

The rust took over the outside of the castle, throwing open the doors in pursuit of destroying every moving being that was left in Time. It began to engulf the spires and the balconies, the railings and the arches, filling the once dark castle in hues of grey and red and teal. Alice could hear it roaring behind her, consuming everything in its path.

* * *

"Run, Alice!" McTwisp cheered from one of the parapets above. "They might actually make it!" He exclaimed as he looked at his watch. He let out a cry as he turned to see that the rust had stopped the gears that were once spinning beside him. He leapt from his small hideaway to the floor below.

"This way!" Bayard bayed, running past the White Rabbit as he bounded away from the rust and decay that was chasing him, Mally sitting astride his back. McTwisp quickly followed, glancing down and wishing Alice luck as he watched her running full out toward the clock below.

* * *

Elsewhere Thackery was saving one of Time's smaller Seconds from being consumed by the rust, jumping expertly from cog to gear to cog as he hurried away from the rust. Wilkins rushed by him, doing his best to avoid being caught up by the rust.

* * *

Mirana struggled behind Alice and Tarrant, running as best she could in her dress and heels. But she was not dressed for running or adventure. She was dressed as she royal queen she was, the monarch she was born to be. She wasn't going to make it, though fear kept her feet moving beneath her.

She let out a yelp when she felt something catch the heel of her boot. Turning, she saw the rust veining its way across the marble floor, covering the ground in its orange-red and teal hue. She wanted to cry out, but knew that such an attempt would only distract Alice. Mirana acted on her next instinct. reaching desperately for a handhold she knew was not there. The rust quickly crawled up her heels, surrounded her dress, constricted her chest tighter than a corset, stayed her mouth from being able to shout any longer, blinded her eyes. Finally, she was stuck, a statue eternally reaching forward as she struggled after the Champion who continued on ahead.

* * *

Wilkins hurried toward Time, who was looking rather worse, hoping that the good news he had would cheer up his master, keep him ticking long enough for the kindergartener to get here. "Sir, sir!" He cried, wheeling furiously toward the slumped over deity. "Hold on, sir! She's here!" He pointed toward the outer corridor where he had seen the blonde-haired woman running with the red-haired milliner fast on her heels.

Time looked at his servant with hazed confusion.

Wilkins felt his excitement grow. "The girl who tricked you, made you look a complete idiot!"

Time groaned as he shook his head and Wilkins covered his mouth with a gasp as he looked about him, the cogs and gears grinding to a halt as the rust and decay began to take over.

 _She'd better hurry!_ Wilkins spun about him. _Or it won't matter where she is!_

* * *

Alice sprinted onward, Tarrant right on her heels as she ran. She could hear the rust whooshing closer, threatening to stop her if she did not run fast enough. Her thighs were burning and her lungs were aching for air, but she knew she couldn't slow. Doing so could mean being caught.

"Alice!" A cry came from behind and she turned to see that the rust had caught up to the milliner. His boot was caught, his legs beginning to freeze in forward motion.

"Tarrant!" Alice cried out, nearly stopping.

"No! Don't! Keep going, Alice! You _have_ to do this." He looked at her with warm green eyes, a smile crossing his face as his limbs were calcified in red and teal. Alice turned away, tears filling her eyes as she watched the man she had come to adore freeze before her.

Her feet began to move even more quickly, the heels of her boot's striking the marble floor as she approached the door to the innerworkings of the Grand Clock.

She burst through, pushing the door aside as she continued forward, the rust not far behind. Her hair whipped out behind her in a curly blonde curtain. She hoped it would not catch fire with rust.

* * *

As Alice ran, so did her friends. Not far from the Grand Clock did the Tweedles, Bayard, Mally, McTwisp, Thackery, and Chess all met a dead end together. The group huddled together, each trembling at the thought of their lives being over, but all emboldened that such an end was being met side by side.

This was not the first-time death came knocking.

And none of them were facing it alone.

"Goodbye brother," Dum was the first to speak, taking Dee's hand.

"Brother, goodbye," Dee responded, clutching his brother's hand tightly.

"I have cherished every moment with all of you," Bayard spoke for the group as they each looked to one another. The dog leapt forward before the group, Mally atop his head with her hat pin sword raised.

"On guard!" Mally shouted as the two took the rust first.

Chess was the last to be engulfed by the decay. "Time's up," he responded thoughtfully as he allowed the rust to calcify his fur.

* * *

Elsewhere, Alice hurried along, Wilkins and Time looming in the distance, sitting right before the Chronosphere's platform.

"She's not going to make it!" She heard Wilkin's cry. "She needs more Time!"

Alice felt her heart beat in her chest as she hurried along, the sound of the rust not far behind her. The entire room was swallowed in the red and teal tinge, the path before her the only part left untouched by the decay.

"I have not ticked my last tock yet!" Time cried as he pulled open his coat. He revealed once again the splintered clock on his chest, letting out a cry as he stabbed his finger on the slowing second hand. Alice watched as the Grand Clock froze, the traveling of the rust slowing every so little.

But enough to get her further away.

She hurried up the gear, looking behind her as tendrils of rust tried to reach out to grab her. She sprinted, knowing she only had a few feet left to go.

She had to make it

All of Underland relied on her doing so.

Alice gritted her teeth as she dashed along the platform, Time only inches ahead of her as he held fast to the hand on his chest.

"It appears," he gasped. "My inwincible macine…"

Wilkins let out a cry as the rust engulfed him, freezing him in grimace. The rust took hold of Time's legs, crawling up his waist, taking over his arms.

"…Is in fact…"

The rust took over his hands, crept over the clock on his heart, made its way up his shoulders. His neck was soon webbed in teal and red.

"Wincible."

He exhaled, the rest of his face now frozen in a defeated sigh of rust. Alice hurried forward as the world around her fell silent. There was no more cry of carry on, there were no more cheers willing her legs to move.

It was she, the rust, and the Chronosphere.

This was a race she had to win.

The Grand Clock chimed as the rust took it over, the Hour that kept it going forever suspended in the helpful motion of keeping the gears running. Alice continued past the statues of Time and Wilkins, feet from the place where the Chronosphere called home. She pressed onward, one foot in front of the other, willing herself to carry on.

She was ascending the platform when it took hold of her heel. It stopped her from moving forward, just inches from the finish. Alice felt her heart lurch into her chest as she leapt forward, trying to pull away from the rust that held her fast by the boot. She strained with all her might as she felt her other foot enveloped in the decay, her leg going numb and being held straight as the rust began to take over her body. It crept up her thighs, fanned over her hips. Unwanted touches that held her static when she wanted to move. It took over the curve of her belly, held fast her ribs so that she could no longer take a breath.

Still, she reached forward.

It took hold of her chest and then her shoulders, held her left arm straight out behind her as her right reached forward to try to bring the small orb home.

She was so close. Her eyes widened as she saw she was mere millimeters away from returning what she had taken.

Her mouth could no longer move to shout, she could not hear the silence anymore. Finally, she could see nothing.

She had come so close to righting what she had wronged.

But she had failed.

She was too late.

She would be frozen here, forever, straining for the dream that was just beyond her fingertips.

And she'd be destined to stand alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Sealbh math dhuit = (Scottish Gaelic) Good Luck
> 
> Mar sin leat = (Scottish Gaelic) Good bye; literally "so you" in return to a bidding of good luck.
> 
> Well, it's been a good long while! Much apologies for the delay. I finished my 3 classes and then had an intensive to work on and attend during the break and then I had a kidney infection. But I'm back. And I'm currently only taking one class and gearing up for Praxises and the like. But regardless. I have two chapters left of this. Which I am going to be writing this week and posting the next two weeks so they are finished. Be looking out for my other ficts, too, which will be getting more love since I have time and vision.
> 
> As always, leave a like and review if you can! They are always much appreciated! I hope you enjoy the little twist on this one. It also gave Iracebeth more reason to hate the Hightopps.
> 
> Fairfarren,
> 
> Lydia


	9. Part IX

The spark zapped her fingers first. The moment of feeling causing her body to hum after so many of numbness.

And then the rust began to blow away.

Alice gasped as she was released from her stance, falling to her knees as her outstretched pose was broken, her limbs awakened to life. She looked from side to side, saw the swells and the stalactites and stalagmites crumbling as the Chronosphere banished all signs that it had been taken from its rightful spot at the heart of the Grand Clock.

Alice felt a smile break across her round cheeks as she watched the decay unfold from the cogs and gears, the melody of their grinding filling the air again. She watched as Time was returned to his normal color, pink and pale, as he sat up, pulling the cloak away from his chest to reveal a clock that was whole again, his blue eyes sparkling to life. She watched as Wilkins tumbled at his side, released from an expression of horror and pain.

She looked across the vast room which was now shedding its skin of teal and red, returning to the ominous ebony and silvers, the spires sparkling in the distance. She watched as the path she ran was cleared, her friends coming to life, sputtering and coughing, stretching their limbs.

Alice stood to her feet, her hands on her waist as she turned, admiring the restoration of the Castle of Eternity, the healing of Time. The rust receded as quickly as it came, in shattering and clamoring waves, releasing all that it threatened to hold captive.

"My goodness," Tarrant lisped as he panted on his hands and knees, having been freed from the static position of running after Alice. He placed a hand to his chest as he sank back into a kneeling position, his chest heaving. Alice looked his way, meeting his dazzling green eyes. His red mouth spread into a smile that she shyly returned.

The sounds of the Seconds climbing down from the Hour, the Grand Clock ticking once more without its help, stirred Time to full consciousness. "Did I miss anything?" He turned his head, looking about with radiant glowing blue eyes. Alice returned his question with a soft grin.

She hurried away from the platform to assist Time with standing up, his grunting and groaning signaling he was still weak. She knelt by his side, reaching her hands out to lend support to his elbows as he stumbled to his feet. "Are you alright?" She asked as she looked up at the deity with concern.

"Yes," Time nodded when he stood fully erect, brushing out his great cloak. "Wilkins!" He shouted. "Wilkins! Wilkins!" He screamed when the butler did not answer.

"Yes, sir?" Wilkins asked gently at his side. Time looked down to see his obedient and loyal servant standing right where he always was, a sheepish grimace passing the Ancient Being's face.

"Oh, there you are," he mused, gesturing about the castle with his gloved hands. "Stop standing around! There is much to do!" Time commanded before turning away, leaving Wilkins and Alice watching in his wake.

"You don't need a butler, do you miss?" Wilkin's mechanical head rolled to the side as his eyes looked up to Alice with a mock plea. Alice's lips parted in an amused smile as she shook her head.

"I am afraid I have no need for one," Alice shook her head.

"Wilkins!" Time shouted from the next corridor.

"I suppose I better be on my way," Wilkins answered, pausing to turn and look up at Alice. "I'm glad you did it."

"So am I," Alice answered with a tight-lipped nod.

"I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't, but I'm glad you were quick enough in the end."

"I think I have to thank Time for his help," Alice replied. "Without his slowing the seconds, I might not have."

"Wilkins!" Time shouted impatiently.

"You'd be best off." Alice tilted her chin toward the direction of the shout.

"You're probably right," Wilkins sighed. " _Kommen, Herr!"_ Wilkins shouted into the distance, hurrying after the cry of his master.

Alice turned to walk down the path she had previously sprinted down, her thighs aching from being held still after such exertion. She was tired and hungry, her needs crying to be met as the rush of the hurry left her limbs. Alice ignored them, striding towards where Tarrant stood, watching her with shimmering emerald eyes and a proud grin on his red lips.

"You did it," he whispered, holding his arms out towards her. She tumbled into them, tucking her head into her chest.

"I did," she breathed, wrapping her arms around the curve of his shoulder as she pulled him close. Tears of fright and relief made their way down her cheeks. Tarrant continued to hold her close, his stained fingers tangling about in her hair. "Tarrant, all of this is my fault," Alice groaned into his lapel.

Tarrant let go of his hold about her shoulders to slide his hands about her cheeks, pushing her away from him so that he could look into her eyes. "You were doing what you thought was right, Alice." His thumb soothed away the droplet that covered her round face.

"I made a mess all the same." Alice sighed.

"But you came back," Tarrant pressed his lips into her forehead. "You came back to Underland after all that time. And you came back for me."

"I always will," Alice answered. She pushed herself to her tip toes so that she could wrap her arms about his neck, her chin resting on his shoulder. It was then that she noticed Mirana in the distance, sitting on the stairs and holding her face as her shoulders wracked with sobs.

"I need to go," Alice felt the guilt weigh heavy on her heart. Tarrant looked down at her, his bushy brows stitching. She took his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be back," she promised. He turned to look over his shoulder, spying the queen as well. He returned Alice's look with a nod, stepping aside so that she could continue down the corridor to where the White Queen sat.

Alice approached hesitantly, her fingers wringing in front of her body as she neared the queen who had not stirred. Her arms were bruising from her fall, galaxies of purples and browns and blues covering her pale skin as she continued to cover her face with her delicately gloved hands.

"Your Majesty," Alice spoke, interrupting the solitude of the Queen's mourning.

"Alice," Mirana look up, her eyes redder still with more tears shed and her long nose was pinkening from her sniffles. "Have you seen Iracebeth? I meant to look for her— "

"I haven't, Mirana," Alice answered, looking down at the woman with an apologetic frown. "May I sit?"

"Of course, of course." Mirana pulled her skirts in so that Alice could sink into the spot next to her on the step. "I made such a mess of things," Mirana said as she looked ahead, her tears starting to cease in flow.

"I think we can all say that we've had a hand in destroying a part of the past." Alice answered.

"No, I made a mess when I didn't tell the truth," Mirana shook her head. "I should have been honest with my sister, I should have told her that I was never over Philip."

"What would it have solved?"

Mirana shrugged. "I don't know. But I never will because I wasn't honest. And Iracebeth was so happy when I told that I wasn't going to speak with Philip anymore, that I had given up on him. I think in that moment she thought I was finally going to concede everything, given her what she rightfully inherited as the eldest." Mirana sniffed, looking off into the distance as if ashamed to look at Alice with such emotion evident. "Maybe I should have. Regardless, I should have honored my word. But the letters kept coming and the sweet exchanges of affection in the woods when we were able to sneak away from our castles. And then when Ilosovic Stayne came to the courts, I thought that maybe, just maybe, Racey would let him go. And then Philip became the fool."

"What do you mean?" Alice's hand reached out to squeeze the queen's shoulder lightly.

"He told Iracebeth it was all over, the charade, the marriage. One night, after he came to Marmoreal and we spoke about telling Racey the truth, he told her in the midst of her fits. Not long after you came to Underland the first time, Alice, and turned her courts upside down. She had his head. And then she demanded mine."

"But you're still alive?" Alice's brows crossed.

"That was Stayne's doing. He convinced her that banishing me would bring as much shame upon my head as having tricked her husband into loving me. So she did. She took my power from me with some words spoken in Outlandish and she banished me to the gates of Marmoreal never to leave until I could face her on the battlefield with a Champion. And who would I find among my soft-spoken courtiers? Certainly no Champion. And I had taken a vow after Philip's death to never become my sister, to never take a life in my rage and my power."

"And you were bound until I came back." Alice nodded her head in understanding.

"You were Tarrant's idea. He saw a muchness in you when you came to his tea table. He knew that you would be strong enough to defeat the Red Queen a second time if you ever returned. And so, he began the Resistance no long before he was bound to the tea table by Time. Together the two of us worked with messengers to begin to figure out a plan to coax you back to Underland." She looked to Alice with puffy brown eyes. "And the rest you know well."

"I do," Alice nodded her head, her gaze falling into her lap.

"And now I understand why she blamed the Hightopps," Mirana sniffed. "She must have run into Siobhan and Elspeth not long before she stumbled on me and Philip in the kitchens that night. And silly Elspeth, the helpful girl she is, thought it wise to pour love potion into the mix. That only made it so much harder to leave Philip behind, because from then on out he was even more properly in love with me. Iracebeth must have known when she destroyed the cake the next morning. And what with Tarrant being the royal Hatter after his father, one of the closest men to the King, she must have thought it all a conspiracy to bring her shame and to take her reign. If Philip had left her for me, he would have taken the entire right to rule, exactly what Underland wanted."

"And she destroyed the Hightopps because to her they were conspirators in taking her crown."

"And later one became just that," Mirana looked to where Tarrant stood off in the distance, speaking with their assortment of friends. Mally was standing atop Bayard's head, animatedly waving her sword as she told of some grand adventure. "I should have respected my sister, I should have loved her more than I loved getting my own way. Perhaps all of this could have been avoided. I would love to tell her that now."

"I am sure she is stuck somewhere in Time. Perhaps he has another Tempus Fugit we can use to fetch her." Alice stood, her stomach churning at the uneasy idea of returning the Red Queen to current Underland. "Look, he's coming now!" Alice pointed to the deity that was making his way toward the Queen.

He had found his tall hat, extending his already tall person another few feet as he hid his tied hair and the workings of the back of his head. He held something in his gloved hands as he approached, a pained look crossing his long features.

"What is it you have?" Mirana asked as she noticed his right hand gripped something large.

"I do not normally allow for this," Time confessed as he stepped closer to the queen. "But I think I can make an exception for such a dignified guest. And as a favor for Alice." Time held out his hand, his fingers uncurling to reveal a large pocket watch, its cover a black filigree that allowed for the crimson face of the clock to be seen through the cutouts.

"No!" Mirana's hand flew to her dark mouth, her head shaking as she closed her eyes, more tears falling. "Please don't tell me this is what I think it is," she moaned.

"I'm sorry," Time said as he watched Mirana take the watch with her left hand. "There comes a consequence to breaking the laws of Time and interfering with one's past self."

"Is that— is that Iracebeth's pocket watch?" Alice asked as she watched Mirana open the face and crumple to the floor with a cry.

"I'm afraid so," Time nodded his head. "She broke the fabric of Time and, in doing so, she broke herself. There is so much the Chronosphere can fix, but a paradox is near impossible."

"Please," Mirana sobbed. "Please leave me be for a moment."

"Certainly," Time answered. "I have much to attend to. When you have finished, you may return the watch to me in the hall of the Underlandians Past."

Alice watched as Time continued past where Mirana lay in a heap of skirts and tears, her fingers tenderly caressing the face of the watch. Alice reached out to place a hand on her friend's shoulder again in a comforting gesture, but Mirana pushed her hand away.

"Alice, I am sure you understand," Mirana sniffed as she pulled the pocket watch to her chest. "I need to be alone for the moment."

Alice felt her cheeks blush, but she did. How many days had she refused company, dressed in black and soaked in tears after her father had passed. She had rocked herself to sleep many times with his pocket watch close to her chest, a small reminder of who he had been.

Alice felt the watch heavy in her pocket, a memento she dared not let go.

But perhaps, looking down at the mourning Mirana, perhaps it was Time.

Alice took a deep breath, glancing back to where Tarrant and her friends stood. Tarrant was watching her, a look of concern marring his features as he looked past Alice to where Mirana lay and then once more to the Champion. Alice sighed, shaking her head in a gesture that indicated to leave the woman be. Tarrant nodded sharply in understanding.

Alice then turned her attention to the corridor Time had descended, knowing what she needed to do. "I am sorry, Mirana," Alice offered her condolences before leaving the woman to her weeping. She stepped past her and toward the wing she had discovered earlier in her fourth journey back to Underland.

* * *

Alice found him in the room that bid the sun farewell, standing at the end of the platform. He had removed his hat, looking humble and serene amidst the quieted clocks as he finished surveying the castle to be sure the rust was gone. She smiled when she saw him look lovingly at the sea of stopped watches, his blue eyes tender as he exclaimed gently "All is well."

Alice approached as quietly as she could, not wanting to interrupt the tranquility of such a moment. She feared that her heart stampeding in her chest was too much for the peace in the room, but Time did not tell her to hush as he turned elegantly to meet her gaze.

"Yes?" He asked impatiently, his blue eyes dimming and eyebrows raising as if dreading another request from her. Alice nearly shrank away, but she swallowed hard and stepped forward, letting out a shaky exhale before she spoke.

"I know you tried to warn me," Alice felt her stomach churn as she confessed her sins, the headiness of her pride and impatience. "But I didn't listen. I'm sorry."

Time turned to face her head on, his brows lifting in an arch that expressed curiosity and intrigue, any trace of annoyance gone. His eyes brightened as she continued to speak.

"You see, I used to think Time was thief, stealing everything I loved." Alice reached into her pocket, pulling forth the heavy burden she had carried since the death of her father. "But I see now that you give before you take. And every day is a gift." She took one last look at the name engraved on the front of the clock, warn and tarnished from years of touch and exposure. _Charles Kingsleigh_. "Every hour, every minute, every second." With a sigh, Alice held the pocket watch out to Time.

The deity looked at the watch with crossed brows, his mouth turning into a slight frown. "The fallen soldier." He looked at her with a harsh glance. "I suppose you want me to fix it?"

"No," Alice said, her heart heavy as she relived the final memories with her father as she held the clock out to the being before her. "I want you to have it."

Time's brows crossed as he looked at Alice, then to the time piece in her hand. He reached forward to take it from her hands, winding the long chain through his gloved fingers as he examined it more closely. His look softened when he saw the name written across the cover.

"He used to say the only thing with doing," Alice fought back tears as she remembered her father's many wise words, "was what we do for others." She looked from the pocket watch to the face of Time. A sad smile crossed beneath his thick moustache as he realized the importance of the item she had given him. "I think he would have liked you." Alice said with a sad grin, meaning every word.

Time winced, his eyes closing for a heartbeat. He then opened his eyes, his azure gaze sweet and comforting as he fisted the pocket watch tenderly in hand. "It is said that Time is a friend to no man," Time spoke after a moment, his voice thick with accent and nostalgic sadness. "But I will remember you always."

Alice felt her heart sink as she realized that this was the beginning of a long series of goodbyes. She was not meant to stay here, in this fantastic land. But her father's memory should. He would have loved this world as much as he would have enjoyed the company of this being. It seemed only fitting that she would leave the last piece of his memory in such a place.

"I think it is Time I should go," Alice looked over the sea of stilled clocks. "You will take care of him for me, won't you?" She nodded toward the clock.

"Only the best, Alice." Time nodded his head, his eyes falling to the fisted hand before him. Alice reached out hesitantly, tapping the gloved hand which held the priceless heirloom. _A long list of things to let go_.

The sound of a throat being cleared snapped Alice out of her morose thoughts. She turned to see that Mirana was standing at the gate. Her eyes were slits due to her crying, her cheeks pinked and glossy, her lips swollen and dark. "I hope I am not interrupting anything," her voice was hoarse. Alice saw that she clutched the chain of her sister's silenced pocket watch in her hand, the clock face draped over the back, facing outwards.

"No, you're not." Alice shook her head. Mirana tightened her mouth into a small smile, making her delicate way down the walk.

"Here is the clock, sir," she held out the watch to Time.

"I am very sorry for your loss," the deity said with an unexpected tone of compassion. Alice watched as he reached out with his free gloved hand to take the pocket watch from the monarch.

"I am sad to say I lost her long ago," Mirana sniffed. "But nothing can be done about that now. I have said as many sorries as I am able and now I must let her go."

"Wise," Time nodded.

"Goodbye, Mirana," Alice reached out to take hold of the monarch's arm as she passed.

"Leaving so soon, Alice? I'd hoped you'd stay for tea," her weak grin showed she understood all the same.

"I'm afraid I need to mend some wounds," Alice answered. "I'm so very sorry, Mirana."

"Thank you, Alice." Mirana's hand reached up to caress the girl's cheek. "And good bye, sweet one."

Alice nodded her head as Mirana dropped her hand, turning to join Time in hanging up her sister's watch. Alice took the opportunity distraction to slip from the gates.

"Alice!" Mally cried from atop Bayard's back. "We were just lookin' for you! We're going back to McTwisp's for a celebration and we want you to come."

"That's kind of you," Alice blushed. "But I'm afraid I have to be going now."

"So soon?" McTwisp bounded up to the girl, sitting back on his haunches.

"Yes," Alice nodded.

"You take care of yourself, Alice." Mally said as she looked at the girl with bright eyes.

"And come back to visit sooner than you did the last time." Bayard said in his sullen voice.

"I—" _No, don't promise, Alice_. She scolded herself. "I will do my best."

"Fairfarren, Alice." McTwisp huddled up to her leg. "We will tell the Tweedles and Thackery that you send your regards."

"Please do," Alice nodded her head. "Now, I must be on my way." She stopped, realizing the gathering was missing one person. "Mally, where's Tarrant?"

"Right where you left 'em, love." Mally answered.

"Thank you."

"You know, staying would be the right thing to do."

"I wish it were." Alice sighed. "Fairfarren, all." She said, turning before the tear that slipped from eye could be seen.

* * *

Tarrant was exactly where Alice had left him. He was waiting patiently, admiring the mirrors that lined the back corridor of the Hall of the Grand Clock. When he caught sight of her in the reflection he turned and ran toward her, arms extended. Alice laughed as she collided with him in an embrace. He picked her up about the waist and spun her in a gleeful show of excitement.

"You've returned to me."

"As I said I would." Her face beamed as his took her hands in his. Glancing over his shoulder, she saw the looking glass behind him shimmer, calling her back. Just as the blood of the Jabberwocky sent her home, so now would the mirror. She let her gaze drop to the ground as a sad smile crossed her mouth.

"Whatever is the matter?" He asked, his green eyes searching her face.

"Tarrant, I'm afraid…I'm afraid I can't stay." She looked up into his face. His eyes flashed dimly, their emerald shade fading into a stormy green, his mouth falling at the corners.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the mirror ripple, knowing that Underland was sending her away again. "I see." He nodded his head. "But, of course, you have a family of your own, don't you?"

Alice's eyes burned with tears as she half-heartedly nodded. She had her mother who still needed her. Her mother she had said unkind and untrue things to possibly days earlier. She tried her best not to blink, because she feared she would let loose the tears that were trying to slip free. She felt Tarrant's finger tuck under her chin, bringing her face to look up at him.

"A very important thing, a family." He smiled at her warmly, though she could see his eyes shimmering. "You've only got one."

"Oh, Hatter." Alice breathed. _I wanted a family with you._ She swallowed, trying to ignore the massive lump in her throat.

"What is it, Alice?" He asked as he pulled at a hair that hung over her shoulder.

"When we went to the future— "Alice reached for his hand, her murky green eyes searching his pale face.

"You shouldn't tell me," Tarrant shook his head.

"Oh, but I must!" Alice insisted. "When we went, I did meet you. And you had a family, Tarrant. Everything worked out well."

"You are cheating, tell me such things." Tarrant smiled at her sadly. "I found out a secret or two, as well."

"Tare, what did you see?"

He leaned forward. "Things I cannot tell you yet." He answered, his breath tickling her ear.

"Oh Tarrant," Alice blinked a tear loose. "I fear I may never see you again."

Tarrant returned her morose gaze with a quizzical one of his own. A small frown crossed his red lips as he shook his head slightly.

"My dear Alice," Tarrant smiled at her warmly before turning toward the mirror. She did the same, watching as their reflections stared back. Still holding her hand, Tarrant escorted her toward the shimmering glass. "In the gardens of memory, in the palace of dreams, that is where you and I will meet."

Alice looked toward the Hatter at her side now, her lips quivering as she knew that such talk was nonsense, just like this world. "But a dream is not a reality."

Tarrant leaned closer to her, causing Alice to stand upright as his green eyes, brilliant once more, searched her face. "Who's to say which is which?"

Alice smiled at his question, stepping close to lock her arms about him again. She pressed her cheek into his chest, hearing his heartbeat. He wrapped his arms about her, his left hand reaching up to caress the back of her head, his fingers entwining in her blonde curls.

Alice stepped away as the hum of the looking glass grew louder, calling her back to the office in the other world. Her world. She looked up at Tarrant with a smile, her green eyes searching his.

"Before I go," she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Give me a proper fairfarren." She answered.

Tarrant leaned forward and placed his mouth on hers. Alice felt her arms wrap about his neck as he pressed his lips to hers, her jaw parting slightly so that she could taste the man she would mourn to never see again. It would help her dreams, cultivate her garden.

He tasted of tea and sweets and headiness. She was aware of his hands about her waist, his fingers following the seams of the waistcoat he had made for her hours before. Why was she saying goodbye again? Why was this fair?

Alice pulled away, her mouth wet and warm. She placed her fingers to her lips as she turned to face the mirror. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tarrant hold his hand out to her. She took it, not daring to look back as she stepped up toward the looking glass.

When did gather up the courage for one more glance back before leaving, she was embarrassed to see the group had reconvened, joined by Thackery holding his newfound Second friend and the Tweedles this time, Chess floating above them.

"You did it, Alice." Mally said as she used Bayard's ear to bat at her tears. "An impossible thing."

"Not as impossible as saying goodbye to you, my friends." She said, blinking away tears. She looked one last time down her arm at the sweet look that Tarrant was giving her, one that said it was okay to go but it would be better to stay. "Goodbye, Tarrant." She breathed before turning to walk through the glass.

She held onto Tarrant's hand, her fingers slipping through his until the looking glass pulled her all the way in.

Tarrant was left standing, reaching toward the mirror, his hand growing cold as he watched the impossible woman leave his side for a second time.

He wondered if the sound of his heart breaking could be heard by everyone in the room or if the shattering was only audible to his deafened ears.

* * *

Alice stepped through the glass and onto the mantle of the bookcase in Lord Ascot's old study. This study was proportional to her size and she was much too big for top of the fireplace. She quickly jumped down to the ottoman and then to the floor, wincing at the bright sunlight that filtered through the windows.

She had spent more than a day in Underland this time and looking down, it appeared that she brought the clothes with her as well. The silk costume she had entered the looking glass in was replaced with the grey harem pants, salmon shirt, and black waistcoat that Tarrant had dressed her in before their journey to stop Iracebeth. Alice was glad for the keepsake; looking back at the glass, she put her fingers to the cold surface, finding that this time it did not give way. With a sigh, Alice turned from the fireplace and made for the exit.

Alice was startled by the sudden gasp of a servant; the overturning of a vase that crashed on the floor caused her to wince. Alice looked up to see that the housemaid had gone ghostly pale as she beheld Alice in an outrageous outfit, leaving a study that had been well searched and cleaned.

"I'm sorry," Alice winced. "I didn't mean to startle you. Do you know if Lord Ascot is around?"

"He's— he's— he's in the parlor having a meeting right now." The maid answered in shock.

"Thank you," Alice answered, hurrying toward the stairs.

She made her way expertly through the home she had visited many a time in her youth, hurrying her way down the stairs and through the halls to the parlor at the front of the grand house. She did not bother to knock when she reached the door of the room, instead inviting herself in unannounced.

Gathered about the table was her mother, Hamish, Lady Ascot, one of the board members, and Mr. Harcourt. All turned at the noise of the uninvited guest, several let loose cries upon recognizing Alice.

"Where have you been?" Her mother demanded, her blue eyes shimmering as she looked upon her daughter.

"I'm sorry, mother, if I've given you a fright." Alice said honestly. She quickly came to her mother's side, holding out her hand. "I should have returned earlier, I know, but there was something I had to do."

"Things which involve assaulting my butlers and trampling my soiree?" Hamish demanded. Alice returned the question with a hard look.

"Hamish, do you mind if I had a quick word with my mother?"

"No, but of course not. Please, Alice, come into my home, tell me how to run my business, embarrass my inheritance party, and instruct me to leave the room on your bidding." He stood, grabbing the lapels of his outer coat, straightening it will force.

"Please," Alice looked at him with pleading green eyes.

"You may not leave this room, do you hear me, Alice?" He gestured for the other guests to follow him.

"I promise," Alice nodded her head. She watched with impatience as Hamish led his mother, Mr. Harcourt, and the board member out of the room.

"You are in heaps of trouble, my girl. And some that I'm not sure I can get you out of." Her mother said with a hard mouth.

"I'll take care of it, mother. It's time for you to take care of yourself." Alice took the seat next to her. "I want you to give Hamish the _Wonder_."

"What?" Her mother asked with wide eyes.

"It is just a ship and there will be plenty more to come. Besides, Hamish would not let me sail under his company name again. I think I will take the clerk position until I've saved enough money to convince a loan office to lend me enough to purchase my own ship. You need the money now, mother. And it wasn't fair of me to leave you for years and not worry about your estates and affairs."

"Alice— I…I'm not sure— "

"Please," Alice placed her hand on her mother's arm. She noticed the document signing the ship over was before the matriarch. "I'll sign it myself. And then you can get the deed back on the estate and sell that, too. You can pay to bring on some servants and we can make due in a little apartment in London. My check from Hamish will be enough to support us."

"Alice, I don't think you've thought all of this through."

"I know this is the right thing to do. And I know it is because I love you and I am so sorry for all the horribly cruel things I said to you." Alice took the pen laying still on the table, signing the document herself.

"Oh, my foolish and silly daughter," Helen leaned forward to take her daughter in her arms.

"I may not be able to change the past, but I can learn from it, mother."

"Alice, this is not the life I had planned for you." Helen shook her head as she examined her daughter's signature.

"Nor is it the one I want," Alice responded. "But it is what it is for now. We can always change the future."

A loud banging on the door caused the mother and daughter to jump. Alice and Helen looked to one another, relieved smiles crossing their mouths. "I'm so glad you returned, Alice, from wherever you went off to. I was afraid you'd never come back."

"I couldn't leave you with nothing, mother." She insisted as she grabbed her mother's hand. "And now you have it all."

The banging continued, much to Alice's annoyance. "Alright, alright, Hamish. You can come in now."

The door swung open, Hamish quickly entering. "I signed the papers, but my mother can as well. Now please give her the deed back so— "

"While your mother's concern is no longer yours, Alice, I will keep good to my word." Alice watched with wide eyes as two new men entered the room, dressed in completely white trousers and shirts. The woman quickly looked to her mother with stitched brows.

"Hamish, what is going on?" Helen stood from the chair, her fingers wrapping about the edge of the table as the men neared Alice. From the doorway, both Ladies Ascot, Mr. Harcourt, and the board member watched.

"This woman not only took off with my ship for over a year, but she has spoken often of a fantastic world, she has drawn pictures of strange creatures, she chased a moth across my dinner party, and she assaulted two of my serving men before locking herself in a room." Hamish pointed to Alice, his face turning red as he listed her crimes.

"Hamish, what is this?" Alice felt her voice shake as the men approached her, grabbing her about the arms.

"You've always been a slight touched, Alice," Hamish said. "But your delusions are getting out of hand and they are causing harm to others. With no man at home, I fear your mother will neither have the strength nor the ability to take care of you. Thus, I am having you committed, Alice Kingsleigh."

"Hamish!" Helen cried. "Why would you do that?"

"It's for your own good, Helen." Lady Ascot spoke over the stunned matriarch.

"Geraldine!" Helen shook her head. "You cannot allow this happen."

"We've had several complaints about this young woman since last night. We will take her into our custody." The orderly holding Alice's right arm assured the disgruntled lord.

"No, stop, I am her mother!" Helen insisted, but Alice felt the pull on her arms as the men began to escort her from the building.

"There's been a mistake!" Alice shouted as she tried to pull free from the guards. She slipped one of her arms loose, pulling away and reaching for one of the books on the shelf. Taking it in hand, she cracked the volume over the head of one of orderlies, who cried out in pain. "Stay away from me," she hissed, running to the fireplace to take a poker up in hand.

"Alice! What on earth are you doing?" Her mother cried as Alice took the poker in a clenched fist, parrying it toward the orderly she had not injured. He danced about, his dark eyes watching for her to make a mistake.

"Alice!" Alexandria shouted. "You're making things worse for yourself; put that down at once!"

"I believe the young Lady Ascot is correct," Mr. Harcourt nodded. "You'd best go along pleasantly."

"Truly, Alice. You must always make a scene." Hamish groaned.

Alice did not concede, but continued to eye the orderly who was circling her, trying to make a dive. He faked a step every now and then, causing her to lash forward and then step back, putting more distance between he and she.

Alice would have been better served to watch her back. The orderly she had injured quickly recovered, taking a syringe from a small case he had tucked into his trouser band. Alice back closer and closer toward him, unaware of his nearness as she attacked the other orderly with the poker.

When she was close enough, the second orderly pounced and stuck the syringe into the flesh on the back of her arm, piercing through her shirt. Alice let out a primal scream as she twisted about, trying to free herself from the man's grasp. As she continued to buck and pull, thoughts of the plant-guards began to swim through her mind as her limbs grew heavy.

"What did you do to me?" She shrieked as she felt her mouth begin to fall open, her eyes blinking rapidly as she fought for consciousness.

"Relax, miss. Just relax. We're not here to hurt you, we just want to get you some help."

Drunkenly Alice swung the poker in response, the tremendous force causing her to fall to the floor as she struggled for balance and consciousness.

"Oh, Alice." Her mother said with sadness as Alice looked up. She felt arms wrap about her again, but the world went dark before she could fight back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was going to wait until early next week to post it but happy (almost) Friday everyone. Besides, I'm just leaving you with another cliff hanger ;)
> 
> I also forgot to say that my hiatus was not all-for-naught- I did complete NaNoWriMo this year with over 50,000 words. So, at least I was writing!
> 
> Anyways, this is the penultimate chapter. What do you think will happen to Alice? Do you think she'll return to Underland?
> 
> Any likes, reviews, PMs are all appreciated. I hope you've enjoyed this story as much I've enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Fairfarren
> 
> Lydia


	10. Part X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so- for the conclusion of my reimagining- enjoy!

A bright light shining in her eyes brought Alice back to reality. She blinked several times, the whiteness causing her eyes to burn as she roused from a dreamless and dark sleep.

Sitting up slightly, Alice surveyed her surroundings. She was in a round room, a large dome skylight lay above her, allowing the sun to shine down harshly on her face during the day, a light sitting off to her right provided the intense brightness by night. There were several other beds in the room, too, but all were empty of inhabitants. A set of double doors were at her left, muffling the sounds of moaning and screaming just outside. Reaching up to rub her forehead, Alice tried to make sense of everything before her.

"Where am I?" She mumbled aloud, glad that she was able to use her voice. Her words incited the swishing of skirts and her mother appeared quickly at her side, reaching out to grab ahold of Alice's hand.

"Alice, are you alright?"

Alice drew her arms up to her side, using them to leverage herself. She slid along the bed, resting her back against the brass headboard behind her. Shaking her head, she tried to clear her thoughts once more. "I think so; I must say I have an awful headache. What happened?"

"Hamish had you admitted to an institution," Helen answered, reaching out to tuck her the sheets in around her daughter's waist in a motherly habit.

"He put me in an asylum?" Alice demanded, her blood boiling at the thought of her childhood companion's audacity. "I ought to ruin his pretty little nose for this."

"Alice!" Helen scolded the woman harshly. "That is precisely _why_ you are in the asylum. They have hopes that they can…fix you, but you will need to listen to their directions."

"Absolutely not!" Alice shook her head, reaching down for the sheets to fling them over her legs. "There is nothing wrong with me!"

"Alice— " Her mother's tone was filled with warning, but the scolding did not continue as it was interrupted by the opening of the double doors behind them. Helen pursed her lips as she sat upright in the chair, her hands folded over her clutch that she held in the bow of her skirts.

"Good evening, ladies," the man wearing a long white coat over a smart black suit greeted as he entered. He was not looking at the two Kingsleigh ladies, however, but at a journal he held in his hands. "Alice, you have been a naughty girl," he _tsk_ -ed as he shook his head in mock disapproval. "You tried to take out two of my orderlies with a fire poker?"

"Wouldn't you if you'd just been trapped to be dragged off to an insane asylum?" Alice answered bitterly. "There is nothing wrong with me."

"People who are often the most unwell do not recognize their need for help," the man answered, his long face looking up to meet Alice's fierce glare. His dark eyes glittered mischievously as he brushed a hand through his silky black hair. "My name is Doctor Bennett and I think with my help and the aid of some of my little…practices…we'll have you back out in society in no time, Alice."

"Or you could stop this madness and let me out now!" Alice's glare turned to her mother. "The only reason Hamish threw me in here was because I upset him by not returning his boat in the time he wanted me to! And because I turned down his marriage proposal." Alice huffed as she threw her legs over the bed, searching for slippers to cover her bare feet, but found none.

"Yes," Dr. Bennet nodded as he tapped his finger on one of the pages of the notebook. "It says here that you tried to commandeer a ship on the notion that you, a lady, were the Captain."

"I was!" Alice insisted. "The men respected me and I led them through some of the toughest waters."

"Was that before or after you fell down a rabbit hole and met some peculiar boys? I know the chasing of what you call a 'blue butterfly named Absolem' occurred not long after you were reprimanded and re-positioned by Lord Ascot." Dr. Bennet closed the notebook with a loud snap.

Alice looked over to her mother whose cheeks were now pink, her blue eyes looking at her lap. "Mother, get me out of here."

"I can't, Alice." Helen looked down at Alice with fire in her eyes. "I may be able to sell the ship and the manor, but how am I to care for you without a proper husband?"

"Father would not have put up with any of this."

"Your father isn't here, Alice." Helen answered, her jaw setting in rage. "I will do my best to make you a place to come home to, but you're never going to make a decent wage, not after being admitted here. It's impossible."

"No such thing!" Alice answered as she stood to her feet.

"Flights of fancy, a short temper, excitable, emotional, given to fantasy," Dr. Bennet read from the notebook once more. "A textbook case of female hysteria."

"I'm not insane," Alice barked at the man before her.

"Some people think that your condition can never be treated. It seems here that you even have an aunt who has been admitted; your father's sister?"

"Aunt Imogene?" Alice gasped. "Mother, you mean Aunt Imogene has been committed?"

"With your father gone and you having not sent me any money, I had no way of caring for her." Helen stood, tears beginning to fill her eyes. "She kept roving on about that prince of hers that was never going to come, Alice!" Helen covered her face with her hand. "What was I supposed to _do?_ " She turned her back on her daughter so that she could hide her tears and muffle her sniffles as best as she was able.

Alice winced, realizing now all that had transpired because of her foolhardiness, sailing the seven seas without the thought of what was going on at home. Alice stepped toward her mother, her hand reaching out to place it gently on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, mother," she said gently. "I wasn't thinking."

Helen turned to face her daughter, her cheeks tight as she looked down on her. "I didn't want this for you, Alice," she shook her head. "Your father's head was always up in the clouds, he always dreamed of the richest of fancies, but he was a _man_ , Alice, and for men there are more allowances."

"I know," Alice hung her head. What her mother said was achingly true. She had done some amazing things in her time abroad, where culture had not yet influenced a savage and free terrain. Culture that dictated that women could only do so much, learn so much, go so far. _This is not Underland_ , she closed her eyes. _This is not a place where I am totally free_.

Helen stepped toward her daughter, wrapping her arms about the girl. She cradled the back of Alice's head as she pushed the woman's cheek into her temple. "Alice, I don't want to see you here but I don't want to see you on the streets, either."

"I understand," Alice nodded her head. A knock on the door caused the women to turn.

Dr. Bennet was attending to a tray of instruments, taking up black gloves in his hand. He looked to the mother and daughter with annoyance. "More visitors?"

"This won't be a regular occurrence, I can assure you." Helen apologized. "We just wanted to be sure Alice was safe and sound before we left her in your care."

"Fine," Dr. Bennet answered in a tight voice that suggested it was anything but acceptable. "Not too long, however. We wouldn't want to stir the patient into another episode."

"No, of course not." Helen agreed as she went to the door to let in a few more guests.

"Mother," the sound of Margaret's voice filled the room. Alice watched as her sister entered, wrapping her arms about their mother's shoulders. Behind her a dark-haired man dressed in a white suit followed. "We came as soon as we heard."

"I wanted you to see her before…before she starts her treatments." Helen turned to look at Alice. Alice stood still as her sister stepped closer.

"Oh, Alice," Margaret gasped as she looked the young woman over. Alice realized she was not wearing the outfit that Tarrant had made for her, glancing down herself to what covered her lithe body. She had been dressed in a stained beige tunic, scratchy thin pants of the same color covered her legs. Her feet were bare against the tile floor below. Alice shuddered as she realized how very exposed she was. "How are you, my troublesome sister?"

"I've been better," Alice confessed as she accepted the hug Margaret enveloped her in.

"Lowell and I wanted to come earlier, to see you when your ship came into port, but we received the news late." Margaret pulled away enough to look her sister in the face. Her blue eyes were rimmed with tears. "We took a train to London as soon as we could."

"I understand," Alice nodded her head truthfully.

"I'm so sorry, Alice," Margaret took her sister's hands in her own. "We will do the best we can to find you a place in our home. Mother is going to come and live with us for the time being, too. It's not as close to London as her apartment, but she won't have to worry about the expense." Margaret leaned close to whisper to her sister, "I had no idea that she was in such trouble, did you?"

"No," Alice answered. "Mother is too sensible to tell either of us."

"And far too polite, too." Margaret nodded her head.

"I think it's time for Alice to be left alone," Dr. Bennet interrupted the exchange. Margaret glanced over her shoulder at the doctor, turning her head back to her sister with a grimace.

"Take care of mother for me, will you?" Alice squeezed her sister's hand tightly.

"Of course, Alice, there's no need to worry." Margaret nodded her head, assuring her sister that all would be managed. "You just worry about resting up and your treatments. As soon as the doctors think you can manage in a home we will come and get you."

"I don't think I'm getting out of here with permission," Alice whispered.

"Don't do anything foolish, Alice!" Margaret gasped. "Just do as you're told for once."

Alice's face spread into a half-smile at her sister's advice. "I wish I was as sensible as you, Margaret."

"No, you don't," her sister cupped her cheek. "You wouldn't be Alice if you were."

"I won't be Alice if I stay here," Alice frowned. Margaret sighed, dropping her gaze to her shoes. "Just promise that no matter what, you'll make sure mother never wants again."

"I promise, Alice." Margaret's blue eyes met Alice's murky green ones. She raised her hand to her chest, her pointer fingers making a cross over her heart. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Thank you," Alice embraced her sister once more. "Despite our conflicts, I love you, Maggie."

"And I you, Alice." Margaret answered. She let her sister go with one final look, before turning to take Lowell's hand.

"I wish you the best of luck, Alice," her brother-in-law said, a sincere look in his deep blue eyes. Alice nodded her head, unable to speak as her mother approached her.

"I'll visit as often as I can and write twice as much," she said, her blue eyes filling with tears. "Oh, my Alice, my fantastic girl."

"Goodbye, mother." Alice flew her arms about the women's neck, pulling her close. "I shall miss you fiercely, but love you none the less."

"You be obedient," her mother instructed into her hair. "Do as they say so that you can return to me."

Alice felt her heart drop into her chest. "If I do not," Alice posited, causing her mother to pull away quickly, a look of concern crossing her feature. "If I do not," Alice repeated, "know that I am safe and well and as happy as I can be."

"Talking riddles until the end," her mother cupped her cheek and quickly kissed the other. "Goodbye, Alice."

Alice waved as her mother stiffly turned, her hand covering her face. Alice looked to Dr. Bennet, who leered on after the family with a satisfied grin. "We'll have Alice back in working order in weeks, don't you worry! We will give her the best care!" He promised as he watched the small family leave. Once they had left the room, he turned to Alice with a Cheshire worthy grin.

"I have several ideas on how to fix you," he said with glee. "They say electric shock can be quite helpful in these cases. And then, of course, there are ways to help you rid yourself of some of that excitement involving…natural stimulation."

Alice felt her skin crawl as he continued to look after her with a hungry gaze. "You aren't going to be doing anything to me," Alice asserted herself.

"Oh, Alice, I am going to be doing everything to you," Dr. Bennet corrected her as he took a needle up in hand. "You are one of the toughest cases yet, but I am going to prove that even a girl as wild as you can be broken." Tipping the syringe, he depressed the lever so that some of the liquid shot out. "But first, we need to calm you down, send you into a deep sleep so that we can begin to teach you how to forget."

"Get that away from me," Alice commanded as she took a step back.

"Come now, Alice," the doctor stepped forward, the syringe held aloft in his right hand while he reached toward her with his left. "You heard your mother and your sister. Be a good girl, now."

Alice cried out as he snatched a hold on her wrist, yanking her towards the bed. She sat down, looking up at him with a wary look as he approached her. "That's better," he mused. "Just a little poke and you'll forget any of this happened."

Alice continued to struggle, pulling her hand free as she tried to fight for control. Dr. Bennet let out a small growl, placing the syringe on the chair next to her bed where her mother had been moments before. Alice saw her chance, quieting as he grabbed her shoulders, pushing her down. "I would hate to have to restrain you, Alice. It's never fun for the patient and it's no fun for me."

Alice quickly reached out to grab ahold of the needle with her hand as he concentrated on pushing her down onto the bed. She stilled long enough for him to reach for the syringe which was no longer there, watching with amusement as his dark brows twisted in confusion.

"Where did it…"

Alice moved viper fast, sticking the needle into the side of the doctor's thigh and quickly depressing the lever, shooting the liquid into his vein. Dr. Bennet looked at her with wide brown eyes, his jaw dropping as realization passed. He struggled to try to grab the syringe from her hands, but the medicine was powerful and swift. He keeled over to the floor, his eyes falling heavy.

Alice jumped into action, leaping from the bed and grabbing the set of keys that was tied to his belt. With a yank, she freed them, tossing them into the air with a smile before fisting them.

"Dr. Bennet, are you sure…" Alice froze as the double doors to the room opened. There stood her mother, her blue eyes wide as she looked at Alice. "Alice?"

Alice paused, her face blanching as she saw her mother struggle with what to do.

"Hey, what's going on?" The husky voice of an orderly behind the door cried out.

"Run, Alice!" Her mother shouted as she pulled the door shut behind her.

Swiveling, Alice desperately look for another means of escape, finding a second set of identical doors behind her bed. She quickly made for them, sprinting as fast as her legs would allow her.

She flew the doors open with a powerful shove, finding herself in the midst of a crowded hallway. Patients, dressed in similar bedclothes, were in various states around the room. Some were confined to wheelchairs, staring out the windows or watching the other patients; others wandered the halls in confused states, a few of these patients bound by straightjackets. The overwhelming stench of urine filled Alice's nostrils as she looked for another method of escape, spying a staircase on the other side of the hall. The sounds of alerted orderlies joined the moans and laughs of the patients, warning Alice to be quick or be caught.

Alice shoved past the patients as she moved through the crowded hall, making her way toward the staircase, reminding herself not to turn around. Her heart pounded in her throat with each step, her mind racing with what to do next. _Where will I go when I get out of here?_ She realized. Going to Margaret's would only get her caught.

 _The Ascots._ She decided. _The looking glass_.

It was her own chance.

Hurrying up the staircase, Alice made it to the next floor. When she reached the landing, she noticed several orderlies charging her way. There was no place to go but up.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Alice ascended quickly until she reached the top floor. The sounds of heavy boots signaled she was still being trailed and she had reached a dead end.

"The roof!" Alice shouted, looking about frantically for the door that would grant access. She smiled when she saw a door at the end of the wing with a sign show stairs that continued to go up. Shoving past doctors and patients, Alice continued her mad dash to freedom.

She threw open the doors with a hard shove, shivering at the temperature difference of the unheated back stairway. Ignoring her discomfort, she ran onward, again taking multiple stairs at a time. Her legs burned as she pushed her body to its limit once more.

Spying a coat rack near the door entrance to the roof, Alice grabbed hold of a striped house coat that hung on the end. Her feet would be unprotected, but at least she could add an extra layer of warmth over the cheap material of the tunic. She pulled it over her arms before opening the door and stepping out onto the roof. She quickly kicked the bottom lock of the door, hoping to buy just a couple more seconds.

The stench of the smog of London replaced the smell of urine she had been breathing in along the corridors of the institution. Looking about for her next method of escape, she was saddened to see that the rooftops beside her were too far to successfully jump. Hurrying to the side of the roof, she looked over to find that there was a balcony several stories below, but no ladder to reach it.

The door began to pound, quickening the beating of Alice's heart. She could not get this far and not get away; she would never see the light of day if she were caught here. Once last survey revealed a flagpole beside here where a Union Jack blew lazily in the slight evening breeze. Alice smiled, taking hold of the rope that held the flag and unwinding it from its hold. She took the length, tying it about her waist as the door continued to resound with bangs.

"If there's one thing I learned at sea," she muttered to herself. "It's how to tie a bloody good knot."

Alice made sure her body was secure before she took to the side of the building, leaning her weight into the rope. She took a deep breath in preparation to jump when the door bust open. Alice went, without second thought, jumping quickly to the middle of the building where her feet hit the brick with a smack. She winced at the pain it sent up her bare feet. Pushing off, she simultaneously loosened more of the rope, landing with a grunt on the top of the balcony below.

Looking over the side, Alice smiled at her continued luck. Just beneath was a covered cab, a perfect place to break her landing. With a groan, Alice threw herself over the side of the balcony, landing on the canvas with a moan, the cloth tearing only slightly beneath the force of her fall and her weight.

She quickly gathered her legs beneath her, rolling off the ceiling and onto the bench, grabbing the reign of the dozing horse. With a cry, she urged the horse on, flicking the reigns.

"Hey, that's my cab!" The owner called from across the street where he had been talking idly with a street vendor.

"I'll bring it back!" Alice shouted at first, realizing how silly a request it was. "I plead insanity!"

Urging the horse on, Alice began the long ride toward the Ascots, the sun falling behind the horizon while her heart beat loudly in her chest.

* * *

Alice slowed the horse as she directed the creature up the long drive to the manor. She prayed that the crunch of the stones beneath the animal's hooves wouldn't attract any attention from the butler. She decided to slow the horse just short of the front door, leaving the buggy within sight of the house in the morning.

Alice took a moment to unbridle the creature, patting its shoulder briskly as she thanked the good animal. "There's a pond just behind the house; go and get a good drink. I'm sure Hamish will return you as soon as he's found out where you're from." She assured the animal before setting him free. The horse snorted, bowing his head and shaking his mane before setting off for the green backyard of the manor.

Alice hurried along the path, cutting her bare feet on several sharp stones as she hurried along to the back of the house. There was a tree just outside the window of the back study on the second floor. It wasn't Lord Ascot's office, but it would lend her access not far from the room. Alice stayed in the shadows as she searched for the sturdy tree, praying that the Ascots had not had it cut down in her absence.

She sighed relief when she rounded the side of the house and spotted the tree, standing tall and reaching just beneath the window. She hurried to scurry up the branches, her limbs burning as made her way toward the window.

The lock had been broken since she was a little girl (she had been the one to break it) and so Alice quickly slipped her fingers under the indent of the window to push it open.

Except it didn't budge.

Alice groaned, panicking as she realized she was trapped. If she went in the front door she'd be easily caught by the foot staff. Could she risk breaking the window?

She pondered for a moment, her eyes scanning the grounds for something to break the glass with, when the sound of the window opening nearly knocked Alice from the tree. In turning her head and met the wide eyes of James Harcourt.

"Miss Kingsleigh, what are you doing?" He whispered.

"Climbing a tree," Alice answered. "I don't suppose you could let me in?"

"I…I suppose." Mr. Harcourt looked confused, but he held his arm out for Alice to use to pull herself through the window all the same.

"Thanks." Alice puffed, brushing down her tunic. Mr. Harcourt shut the window as she looked about the room.

"What are you doing?" His voice was harsh.

"I need to get something from the office."

"But I thought Lord Ascot had you committed?"

"It wasn't very nice of him." Alice frowned as she made her way toward the door. "So much for being a family childhood friend."

"What are you going to do when you're found, then?" Mr. Harcourt asked, his light brows crossing.

"I won't be," Alice smiled.

"You are a strange bird, Miss Kingsleigh." He said, then balked, shaking his head as he held his hands out. "I mean that in all the best ways possible."

"I am sure you do."

"Miss Kingsleigh."

"Yes, Mr. Harcourt?"

"Please, call me James." He responded.

"Alright, James." Alice frowned, her patience wearing thin as every moment she stood here was a moment closer to being caught.

"Do you think…when you're feeling better or haven't been caught or whatever your brilliant plan is…do you think I could come and call on you for tea?"

"Oh, James," Alice smiled wickedly. "If you can find me, you can call on me any time."

James smiled rather proudly. He glanced over his shoulder, his chin indicating the books behind him. "I suppose I should get back to the ledgers. Please let me know if there's anything I can do for you, Miss Kingsleigh."

"Thank you, for your help." Alice said as she opened the door.

"It was my pleasure." James nodded. "Goodnight, Miss Kingsleigh."

"Goodnight," Alice whispered before she opened the study door.

Pressing herself to the wall, Alice listened for the sound of approaching footsteps. She heard nothing, so she began her precarious ascent down the hall.

She was swift in finding the empty office, her heart beating in her ears as she pushed open the door. A part of her wondered if the looking glass would even accept her back. Easing the door closed behind her, Alice looked at the reflection of the office across the room.

Her steps were ginger as she passed beneath the ornate chandelier, crept daintily over the tiger skin rug, and passed the chess game. She inhaled deeply as she placed her foot on the ottoman, then the grate, finally climbing to the top of the mantle. The brick was cold beneath her feet as she faced the mirror.

Alice slowly pressed her fingers into the glass, closing her eyes tightly as she braced herself for them to be stopped.

Instead, her fingertips slid through the mirror like water. A smile crossed Alice's lips as she took one last look at the room.

Then she turned and took one large step through the looking glass, swallowed whole by the shimmering mist that beckoned her home.

* * *

Alice shivered in the night air as she climbed the stairs to the porch. Her arms were wrapped about her body, the tunic doing little good in holding heat. She paused before the door, her hands shaking as she tried to form a fist. What if he was mad at her for leaving again? He didn't seem so when he had ushered her through the looking glass, but this was the second time she had left him behind.

She had nowhere to go if he wouldn't take her. There was little to be lost.

With a deep breath, Alice raised her hand to the door and rapped.

She waited. Inhale. No answer. Exhale. No answer. Inhale. No answer. Exhale. No answer.

She worried he wouldn't; perhaps he wasn't home. She made to turn to leave the house when the door opened.

"Alice?" The voice lisped lightly. Alice pivoted, a smile crossing her face as she beheld him.

He was dressed in his usual attire; lavender dress shirt with a chocolate brown waist coat, brown pinstriped trousers to match. His ascot was undone about his neck and he wore no outercoat. His hat was missing, too, his red hair sticking out at odd angles from his head.

"Hello, Tarrant."

"Alice!" He cried, grabbing her by the hand. "Come in, come in! Your hands are freezing!"

"I'm a bit cold," she answered, pulling the housecoat tighter about her body.

"No wonder," he looked her over. "Come and warm yourself here!" He directed her to a wingback chair sitting before a fire. "I was just making some tea; would you care for some?"

"I would love some." Alice smiled as she settled in before the flames, the coziness of the house seeping into her bones.

"Excellent!" He exclaimed, hurrying into the next room. "I'll fetch you something more proper to wear when you've finished. You smell rather frumious in those clothes."

"I came from a frumious place, I am afraid to say." Alice answered. She sat up to look about the back of the chair, only to be startled by Tarrant who arrived with a cup of tea on a saucer.

"You look tired, too." He cupped her face. "Oh, how rude of me, please, drink!" He gave her the saucer eagerly. Alice smiled as she looked into his emerald eyes.

"Thank you," she took the cup graciously. Winding her pointer finger about the handle, her thumb placed on the nob for leverage while her other fingers curled to balance the china, she took a hearty sip. "It is precisely what I needed."

"Let me go and prepare somewhere for you to sleep. We'll go to Marmoreal in the morning and there we can get you all the proper clothes and the finest goods— "

"Tarrant," Alice interrupted him, placing her cup on its saucer. He paused, his mouth hanging open as he looked down at her. "How do you know I'm staying?"

"Aren't you?" He looked at her with knitted brows.

"I…for now." She answered, too scared to admit an eternity.

"Well, that is a satisfactory enough answer. Now please, let me ready you some things for the evening. I want you to be most comfortable."

Alice settled into the chair, her eyes weighing heavy as the exhaustion of the past day in both worlds lay heavy on her. She placed the saucer on the table next to her, the warmth of the fire coaxing sleepiness from her mind.

She awoke several hours later to find that she had been laid in a small bed, the covers tucked about her body in the most tender of fashions. Alice felt the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile as she pushed deeper into the blankets, the mattress enveloping her aching body as she slipped off into sleep once again.

* * *

"I hope this will do," Tarrant placed a piece of toast before her.

She had woken after the sun rose, sending long rays of light over the foreign bed. It took several moments for Alice to remember all that had happened, her mind reeling as she took in the strange items in the odd room she had woken up in.

Then she had remembered, this was neither her reality nor the gardens of dreams. This was Underland. She had crawled through the looking glass and she had returned.

She had come home.

Tarrant had set out a fresh petticoat and a calico dress on the vanity next to the bed in the small room. Immediately striping herself of the asylum clothes, Alice had slipped on the fresh outfit, detangling her curls with her fingers before going in search of Tarrant. She had found him in the kitchen, eagerly making eggs and toast, an apron wrapped about his waist as he tended to the food. He ushered her to the small table when he turned to find her standing in the doorway; a cup of tea made just the way she fancied sat steaming in wait for her.

"You didn't have to do all of this," Alice insisted.

"You came back, of course I had to!" He insisted.

"I suppose I should go and see Mirana, let her know a new citizen has joined Underland."

"She knows," Tarrant replied as he went to tending her eggs.

"The Oraculum?" Alice took a bite of toast.

"It rarely is wrong," Tarrant replied as he put her eggs on a separate plate, placing the steaming pile in front of her. "I thought it might be, though, when you left."

"I'm glad to see you didn't lie in wait for me," Alice smiled as she took a forkful of eggs in hand.

"I did," Tarrant answered her. "But not at a tea table or wasting away in my home." He took to the table beside her. "You smell much better this morning. Where did you get those horrid clothes?"

"An asylum," she said. "A place where they put mad people. Hamish had me admitted when I returned through the looking glass. He doesn't take kindly to people appearing through walls…or taking his ships…or telling fantastic stories."

"He seems a rather frumious sort."

"He is," Alice agreed.

"They throw mad people into the same house altogether?" Tarrant asked as he looked at Alice under stitched brows.

"If you can believe it," Alice answered before taking another bite of buttery toast.

"Sounds like a rather exciting place to be."

"I wasn't there long," Alice answered. "The problem is they try to fix you when your brain has gone a little…sideways."

"Hmm," Tarrant hummed as he took a cup of tea. "That sounds entirely backwards. Why would you want to cure people of their madness?"

"Oh, Tarrant," Alice smiled. "I wish I could give you that answer, but I'm afraid as half as mad as you."

"And that is precisely why you are my Alice." He answered, smiling at her keenly before taking another drink of his tea. "I hope that never changes."

"Now that I'm here, it won't."

* * *

**_Several years later_ **

* * *

"A little higher!" Alice shouted as Tarrant balanced on the ladder. "Perfect!" She clapped her hands together as Tarrant secured the chain of the sign on the metal holder. He smiled at it proudly before carefully making his way down to the ground to stand beside the blonde.

"It looks rather perfect, indeed," Tarrant nodded, squinting at his handwork beneath the brim of his hat. The hand painted sign read _Hightopps' Handsome Hats_.

"Message from the Queen!" Came the shout of McTwisp as he bounded up the road to where Tarrant and Alice stood before the haberdashery. All around the streets, people were putting up signs, painting sideboards, or moving furniture into various shops and homes.

"What is it, McTwisp?" Tarrant turned to look down at the rabbit.

"The Queen is having a celebration for the fifth anniversary of the Frabjous Day. They are unveiling the statue this evening and Queen Mirana would be delighted if Alice would give a little speech. If she's feeling up to it, of course." McTwisp bowed his head anxiously.

Alice turned, her hand resting on the curve of a rounded stomach. "I'm having a baby, McTwisp, I'm not dying." She laughed. "You can tell Mirana I would be more than honored to say a few words, but the whole notion of placing my statue in the square of Witzend is a bit silly."

"Nonsense, Alice!" Tarrant wrapped his arm about the woman's shoulder. "It's only right that Alice Kingsleigh by recognized for the Champion she is; saving Underland twice from the bluddy rehd qween!"

"Alice Hightopp, thank you," she kissed the curve of Tarrant's cheek. "I couldn't have done it without the help of my dear friends." She looked pointedly at McTwisp. "You all helped me every step of the way."

"Aye, but it was your muchiness which inspired us, my love." Tarrant smiled down at her.

"So, we shall see you at the dinner this evening?" McTwisp asked.

"I look forward to filling Pasdeuxtris with better memories." Alice nodded her head.

"As do we all." McTwisp sniffed in agreement. "Until this evening, then!"

"Same to you," Tarrant nodded his head. The White Rabbit offered a small smile before scampering off.

"Hello, Hightopps!" Bayard bayed from across the street where he was walking with several of his pups, his wife Brielle not far behind bring up the rear.

"Hello!" Tarrant waved at the passing family.

"When can we look forward to acquiring some precious hats from your new business?" A voice asked from thin air as Tarrant turned back toward the shop. Alice giggled as Chess appeared around her husband's neck.

"For troublesome cats, never." Tarrant answered as he stuck up his nose in indignation.

"Aw, Tare," Alice reached forward to ruffle Chess' back. "He did help us escape from trouble a time or two."

"I suppose." Tarrant rolled his eyes. "Fine, perhaps next year."

"Or you could just give me the hat atop your head and I'll never bother you again?" Chess teased.

"Don't test your luck, Chess." Alice warned with a laugh. The cat looked back at her, flicking his tail, but smiled all the same before disappearing.

Tarrant brushed his shoulders off of imaginary cat hair before opening the door to the shoppe. He held it open as Alice passed. "Are you feeling well?"

"My feet are swelling and my back hurts," Alice answered as she walked through the room toward a box that was sat on top of a desk. "But I am fine, I promise." She sent her husband a smile before reaching into the box that held jars of buttons, feathers, and various other accessories. She began to remove them, placing them on the small desk on display for customers to weigh in on their preferences for head coverings.

"I think it's rather nice of Mirana to make you a statue," Tarrant said as he passed into the next room.

"I'm quite through with seeing them after watching all of you rust before my eyes," Alice answered from where she stood, shaking a jar of buttons so that the most colorful ones filtered to the top.

"That was three years ago."

"All the same," she shrugged. "There are nights where the idea of never being able to escape, of not returning the Chronosphere— oh!" She turned to see that a guest had entered the room.

He was as tall as she remembered, his face long and his bright blue eyes shimmered as he watched her. A small frown sat beneath his moustache, but he stroked his muttonchops thoughtfully. He wore his long cloak adorned with chains and necklaces, his black gloves, his tall boots, and his purple pantaloons, but his head was bear. His hair was pulled into a small bun at the top of his head, exposing the cogs and gears that indicated he was much more than a person.

"Time," Alice bowed her head.

"Alice Hightopp." The deity answered.

"Is someone here, Alice?" Tarrant called from the next room. His voice grew louder as he approached the door. "You should let them know that we aren't o..pen yet…" Tarrant's voice trailed off as he entered the room and beheld Time.

"Hello, Hatter." The being said with an air of annoyance. Tarrant said nothing but watched with narrowing yellow eyes.

"How can we help you, sir?" Alice looked up at the deity, knowing that while he thought well of her he still was never pleased that she had returned.

"I came here to give you something." Time reached into his pocket. "Or rather, not to give you but to show you, to demonstrate to you, to reveal to you, to parade for you something I have crafted."

"Oh?" Alice asked as she placed her hand on her belly. Time stepped closer, his left hand stretching out to reveal it was held in a fist. "What is that?"

The deity's fingers uncurled to reveal a silver pocket watch. Clicking the dial, the face opened to reveal the ticking clock. Tipping the pocket watch forward, Time allowed for the piece to tumble into Alice's hands.

"This looks like my father's watch," Alice said as she examined the piece. "But it'd be impossible for his to have started." Alice looked over her shoulder as Tarrant approached, his hand reaching out to take the piece from Alice.

He twirled it in his hands, looking the entire watch over. When he closed the cover, Tarrant paused, looking up to Time with shimmering green eyes. Alice saw that tears were misting.

"What's the matter, Tare?" Alice took the watch from him.

"Thank you," Tarrant looked to Time, who nodded his head humbly.

Alice's brows crossed as she looked at the cover, noticing that elegant script was carefully etched into the round silver. Alice pulled the watch closer to read it.

 _Alice Hightopp_ , the watch said.

"You mean," Alice looked up to Time. "This is mine?"

"All your own," the being said. "Now, I must have it back before you pilfer it. It must hang in the room of Underlandians Living."

"I understand." Alice nodded her head gravely.

"It is currently missed by two other clocks." Time explained as he looked down at Alice's rounded belly.

"Thank you," Alice smiled at him warmly. "For everything."

"Thank you, Alice." Time answered. "And best of luck with your little kindergartner. If it's half the trouble you are, you will be in need of rescue."

Alice grinned as she watched Time turn to leave. "If you are ever in need of a hat," Alice called after him. "Just let me know!"

"I plan to stay far from the two of you!" Time did not turn as he stepped out onto the street. "Wilkins!" He bellowed for his butler as he exited the shoppe.

Alice laughed as she watched the strange being go, turning to see that Tarrant was still staring at her. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he said with the shake of his head. "It's just…everything is so…perfect."

"Don't jinx it!" Alice laughed as she rubbed her belly. She gasped as the baby suddenly began to roll and kick, harder than she had felt before. "Tarrant, quick!" She grabbed hold of his wrist, placing his hand on the curve of her belly.

She laughed as her husband's eyes widened, his other hand joining the first so that he held her rounded belly. The baby continued to roll and move as her husband watched on in awe.

"Did you know?" She asked him. "You must be able to tell me now."

"Know what?" Tarrant asked as he moved his hands over her tummy.

"About this? All of this?" Alice asked.

"Maybe," he answered. "I did meet a milliner's wife once."

"Tarrant!" She gasped as she pushed him playfully. "You kept that from me."

"I made a promise to you," he grinned as he leaned forward to kiss her on the lips. "And I shan't ever break a promise to you! Especially seeing as the you I promised was family."

"Not only did you hide a surprise," Alice pinched him. "You also lied to me! You said we only have one family; it seems we have made several."

"Nay," he pulled her close in an awkward embrace. "We just continue to grow the one we were given." He kissed her on the mouth. "Now then, Mrs. Hightopp, what do you say to a cup of tea?"

"I say that it sounds like a perfect addition to a perfect life." She answered, entwining her arm about Tarrant's.

Arm and arm, Alice's head resting on Tarrant's shoulder, the two of them slipped off into the kitchen for a cup of afternoon tea.

_Roll Credits_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And therein lies the end.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this story as much as I've enjoyed imagining and writing it. I'm so sorry it took so long to finish, but I have this stupid real life I have to take care of. Rabbit holes are so very darn elusive!
> 
> While this tale has ended, my tales of Underland have not. Feel free to check out the other works I have completed and am working on now.
> 
> As always, leave a like. Comments are always appreciated. My PM box is always open.
> 
> Fairfarren,
> 
> Lydia


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